


Rise with the Moon

by Thorinsmut



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: (don't worry it's the monster getting bitten, Animal Death, Comeshot, Complete, Cuddling, Cultural Differences, Dick Biting, End-Game spoilers, Enemies to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Explicit Consent, Gifts, Growth of Trust, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Huddling For Warmth, I promised the monster porn and I have Delivered, M/M, Mutual Masturbation, Near Death Experience, Non-Human Genitalia, On-screen character death, Oral Sex, Sharing, Size Difference, Slow Build, Temporary Character Death, The Author Regrets Nothing, and he's into it), mild pain-play, mutually protective behavior, touch starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-04
Updated: 2018-08-31
Packaged: 2019-03-13 08:02:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 14
Words: 31,076
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13566303
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thorinsmut/pseuds/Thorinsmut
Summary: The Golden Lynel served the Calamity, because it was stronger than him. For a century he stood, alone, destroying all who did not serve Calamity Ganon.When a tiny Hylian bested him, over and over again, he came to realize that the boy was stronger even than the Calamity. But with so much enmity between them, could the Champion of Hyrule ever come to trust him and see him as an ally... or something more?OR: a tale of cultural differences, unusual friendships, monster love, and well-earned liberation for all of Hyrule.





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now with a cover image commissioned from my dear friend Val!
> 
> You can commission them yourself [ here](http://asparklethatisblue.tumblr.com/comm)

The moon was high in the sky, round and red as blood.

 _"Here_ ," the force told him. " _Stand, and destroy all who do not serve me_."

So there he stood, strong and ready.

 

The tiny Hylian boy wore a blue tunic and a blank face, and did not serve the force. He attacked, intent to crush the Hylian as he had crushed so many before. Hylians were weak creatures, fragile and easily destroyed.

This one was not.

The Hylian was young, and quick. He should not have been also so strong, or so canny. The Hylian flew through the air when he managed to slam into him, but always stood to attack again.

He was certain he was going to win, as he had always won, until the Hylian stabbed him through with the final blow.

He died. And the last thing he saw was the Hylian boy wiping a smear of blood from his cheek—stone faced and silent until the end.

 

The moon rose red.

" _Stand and destroy_ ," the force told him.

There he stood. Again.

 

It was Hylian soldiers, this time. They were not like the Hylian with the blue tunic, he could crush and kill them, but they were many. Like ants. They overwhelmed him with their numbers, and cut him down.

Another red moon. Another group of soldiers.

And again, but there were so many fewer soldiers this time, and he was badly injured, but the soldiers retreated before he fell. They did not return.

Red moon after red moon he stood and defeated challengers, rarely falling and always rising, and the force ruled all but the smallest pockets of the land.

 

The blank faced Hylian boy again. It had been long, so long, but he had not forgotten the only Hylian who had defeated him alone. The Hylian did not wear the blue tunic, he was snow-pale and scarred and carried different weapons, but was the same one. He attacked, with all his force and fury. It was a long fight, brutal on both sides. The Hylian broke weapon after weapon on his striped hide, but always had one more on hand to use. He blew fire, and he charged and swung, and always the boy dodged in dancing flips and rushed in to deal more pain.

He lost. Again. And he saw the Hylian boy collapse to his knees, before the last of the life left him.

 

Another red moon. " _Destroy,_ " he was charged, as always he was, by the force that was the most powerful thing he knew.

He was strong. He had always been strong, with speed and power in his four hooves, with strength in his arms, with fire in his belly, with rending teeth in his mouth. He was golden, and scarred from his many victories, and there was no other beast that could stand to challenge him. The enemies of the force must face him in groups or die. Only the ruling force was more powerful than he, and so he obeyed it.

Only the force... and somehow a tiny Hylian boy with a face that showed nothing.

 

The boy returned in heavy soldier's armor.

The boy returned in sleek Sheika leathers.

The boy returned in paint and skulls and leather straps.

The boy returned in the blue tunic.

The boy fought him with Moblin clubs and Lizal spears.

The boy fought him with Yiga blades.

The boy fought him with other Lynel's weapons.

The boy fought him with a sword that burned with icy white light.

And he died.

And he died.

And he died.

 

The moon rose, full and red.

 

The Hylian boy in the blue tunic came, and fought him, and he was broken. His body was battered and torn, until he could no longer rise to fight. The boy stood over him, sword raised in both hands to drive it down in the final blow. Again.

"Why do we fight?" he asked.

The sword stabbed down, and he died, but above him the Hylian boy's face was no longer carved of stone. His mouth had fallen open, his eyes wide, as he looked down and _saw_ him.

"You can _speak_?" the boy breathed.

 

A red moon.

A meeting.

He circled, sword in hand, and the boy in the blue tunic circled opposite him with a shield. They did not close, and they did not look away.

"Why do we fight?" he asked.

"Because I am the Champion of Light, and you serve Calamity Ganon," the boy—Champion—said. "We fight because we must."

Champion, gaze fixed on him, did not see a loose stone, and stumbled. He sprang, striking him with a powerful blow—but as always the boy rolled and jumped back to his feet ready to do battle.

It was not a long fight, this time.

As always, he died, and Champion won.

 

The moon was full and red.

" _Stand, and destroy all who do not serve me_ ," the force ordered him.

"Why?" he asked, a growled word in the red-light nighttime.

There was no answer.

 

The boy, Champion, in his blue tunic, heavy Goron crusher in his hand with the point held low. He, broad notched blade in his own hand, also not raised. Neither moving as they stared each other down.

"Why do you serve Calamity Ganon?" Champion asked. "Why do you keep fighting me?"

"He serves the force because it is stronger," he answered.

"So that's all it is, then," Champion said. His voice was quiet. He shook his head, pale gold hair ruffling. His skin had grown gold as well, not so pale any more. It was no wonder he was so powerful, marked with such colors. Champion raised his weapon.

He fought with all his strength, but Champion won. The boy was well named, Champion, who could not be defeated.

His chest and barrel were broken, blow after blow from the crusher doing more damage than he could survive. "The force is stronger," he said, blood choking his throat, "but Champion is strongest."

He closed his eyes, and let the pain end.

 

A red moon in the sky, and Champion standing before him.

Waiting for him?

" _Destroy_ ," the force ordered.

And his body answered, in the places between his hearts " _No_ " and " _You are not the strongest_ " and somewhere, deeper, in his bones, " _I am so tired_."

He stared Champion down, and did not draw his sword or bow. He did not breathe deep into that chamber which fed his fire. He waited.

Champion held only a shield, eyes wary. So they stood, for long minutes, until Champion lowered the shield. "What did you mean?" he asked. "You said I was the strongest."

"Champion is stronger than the force," he answered. "The force says to stand and destroy. He will not. He will go with Champion."

"You..." Champion's jaw clenched tight, his sad little blunt teeth grinding tight together. His shoulders were stiff and still, like he was trying not to move. Not like when they fought, and he was fluid motion like the wind. "You can't expect me to _trust_ you, just like that."

He spread his hands, open and unarmed, and Champion raised his shield as if he was attacking. "So kill him again," he answered.

Champion did not draw his sword.

He lowered himself, carefully, to his knees—hooves tucked beneath his barrel. He turned his face up, throat bared beneath his mane to make it easy. The misty red moon filled his gaze. He liked it better when it was crescent and clear, or when there was no moon at all and the sky was full of stars.

He heard Champion stepping close, the soft deadly _shhh_ of a sword leaving its sheath, and he closed his eyes.

No killing blow landed.

Champion took a gasped breath, and another. "Why?" he demanded.

He opened his eyes, and looked down at Champion. He was small, even for a Hylian. Champion did not look dangerous. No wonder it had taken him so long to understand that Champion could not be defeated. "Champion is the strongest. If he fights, Champion kills him. If he does not fight, Champion kills him, or Champion trusts him."

Champion shook his head, put his sword back in its sheath, and stepped away—rubbing his temples. When Champion came back to face him, long minutes later, his face was smooth and blank. "I can't trust you," he said. "And I can't murder you in cold blood. And I can't leave you here, to wreak havoc on travelers."

That was more choices than he had imagined, and Champion had said no to all of them. "Easiest to kill him again," he supplied.

"Yes." Champion clenched his jaw again, looked down, and then back up. "But no. So I will bring you with me. You'll have to earn my trust. If you are telling the truth, then... I could use an ally. If not, then I'll be close by to kill you."

He pushed himself to his feet, towering above Champion. He did not react when Champion's hand tightened on his sword handle. "Where do we go?" he asked.

Champion turned to run, whistling, and a black mare cantered up for Champion to swing onto at full speed. He was caught by surprise, and had to gallop to catch up.

"Faron," Champion said, when he was beside him. Even mounted, Champion was much shorter than him. "And stay where I can see you."

He nodded. He followed close to Champion, matching his speed to the horse. He faltered, slightly, when his hooves passed the boundary of his valley—the invisible line he had not crossed in the ages since he was first placed there. Champion's eyes were sharp on him, though, watching, and he held himself firmly upright and confident. He cantered side by side with Champion, eyes open to see the world.

He did not look back.


	2. running together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link and the Lynel travel through Hyrule.

It was a long way from his valley to Faron.

They came across enemies quickly—not enemies of the force, enemies of Champion. Servants of the force, as he had been for so long. There were Moblins and Bokoblins, in a rickety tree fort, and dancing around a fire on the ground near it.

Champion held a hand out as he stopped his horse, gesturing him to stop as well. Champion pointed to the Moblins and Bokoblins, who had not yet noticed him. "What would you do if I told you to kill them?" Champion asked. His bright blue eyes were very sharp, looking up at him. As though it was a challenge.

He drew his bow, paused momentarily as he judged the wind and chose the correct type of arrow, and loosed two high volleys into the camp. Fire arrows, to ignite bomb barrels and send the entire camp into chaos. Into this he galloped, sword and shield drawn. He roared and slammed his sword down in the center of camp, a fireburst, and the weakest of the enemies were slain, leaving only the most worthwhile to face him. Silver they might be, but they were still only Bokoblins and Moblins. He charged the group, on all sixes, to slam them apart and separate them—and then it only took a few heavy sword blows to defeat each. One of them shot him, stinging electric arrows, and then squealed and tried to flee when he was not disabled. He ripped the arrow from his flank and returned it in a close-range volley.

And that was the last of them.

He shook his mane and roared victory, rearing up high, and then he returned to Champion's side. Champion's face was very blank and still. Champion's eyes flicked to his bleeding flank, and then back up to his face. Champion said nothing, and dismounted to gather arrows and evaluate the weapons the defeated had dropped. He waited, and Champion still said nothing when he returned, and they continued on together.

 

They did not follow roads.

Champion led him in a winding line cross-country, avoiding anywhere that began to smell like Hylians on the wind. They crossed grassy plains and forests and hills, mountains, ravines, rivers. They went where Champion's horse could not follow, and Champion climbed and ran and lifted himself skyward in a magical burst of wind to sail on the air.

He could not soar, and he could not climb cliff faces like Champion could—but he could follow. It took all his skill, his most powerful leaps and his keenest judgment of the terrain. Champion forded a river, and he cleared it in a single bound. Champion ran through dense trees, nimble as a shadow, and he lowered himself to all sixes to charge trough. Champion scaled a mountain cliff, and he found a path around. He found a route to the top, but Champion was already sailing on. The wind was with him, lifting him up and hurrying him on southeast, southeastward always.

He chased, an eye on the speck of Champion and the rest of his attention on the land around him. It was not easy. It felt... it felt good. It felt _good_ to push his body to its limits, to use his knowledge and his skills for something other than fighting. This was another challenge, to keep up with Champion and prove he would not slow the Hylian down.

It was a _game_.

He could hardly remember the last time he played, but this chase that was not a hunt or a battle could not be anything else. Champion was fast approaching the ground, and whistled for his horse. The black mare broke from tree cover to gallop to him, having found her own path, and Champion landed upon her back just as she caught up.

Champion looked over at him, a sparkle in his brilliant blue eyes, and a trumpeting call belled from his throat unbidden. The sound rang out, filling the air and rebounding from the hillsides, and the mare shied away from him.

Champion slowed and soothed her, staring at him with wide eyes. "What was that?" Champion asked.

He reared up high, tail lashing and arms stretched up to the sun—golden light on his striped golden hide. His body thrummed, aching with unusual exercise but feeling far more _alive_ than he had been in ages. He sank slowly back down, breathed deep and spread his hands out to the beautiful shining day that surrounded them—everything vibrant and new and different from his old valley. "Good," he answered.

Champion nodded slowly. Then, faint on the distant wind, another Lynel answered his call, and another. They were not near, and almost their voices could be mistaken for the echoes of his. He did not make that mistake, and neither did Champion. Champion turned his blank face forward and urged the black horse into a gallop, traveling as quickly as possible away from the other Lynels, and he followed.

He did not see the other Lynels, was too far to even scent their territories, but he knew they were _there_ , now, and the space between his hearts warmed like sunlight and ached like frost.

 

There were some battles, that day. Nothing difficult. Bokoblins, mostly, a few Moblins, and some Lizals near the rivers.

The Bokoblins tended to scatter in terror, when they realized he was fighting on Champion's side—smart enough to recognize him as a threat they could not defeat, though not enough to recognize Champion as the greatest threat of all. The Moblins were not smart enough for that. They attacked Champion as the only obvious enemy of the force, ignoring him, making them easy to kill.

The Lizals were smart enough to recognize that he was fighting on Champion's side, and furious about it. Once they knew that he had become an enemy of the force, they screamed and attacked him only, ignoring Champion. But they were only Lizals, even if silver or gold. He could defeat them, and with their attention elsewhere Champion could easily cut them down from behind.

He and Champion ended all battles they entered quickly, with no words between them, and ran on.

 

Champion stopped when the sun was setting, in a small copse of trees on the side of a mountain. There was a small triangle of cloth strung up, a traveler's tent, and a metal pot over the remains of an old fire. Champion placed his pack beneath the tent, and lit a fire beneath the pot with flint and a blow from a sword.

Champion settled in for the night, harvesting birds eggs from the trees and herbs and mushrooms that grew beneath. He left Champion's side to range further, exploring the entire flat forested tableland Champion had brought him to. He found honey, two hives worth and took only the tiniest pain from the bees in exchange. Better yet, he found a bear. It was fat and heavy, confident in its home range. Easily slain with an arrow.

He brought both back to Champion, honey and bear, and lay them by the fire at Champion's feet. It was a worthy offering, he hoped. Champion accepted it, or so it seemed, but he only took a few small pieces of muscle meat from the bear. The majority of it he left—he did not take any of the best parts, not even the liver.

"Can you take that away, before it stinks up the camp?" Champion said, rejecting the rest of the bear.

He took the carcass away, behind a few trees, and devoured his fill of the warm, bloody meat and organs. It had been long and long since he'd eaten so richly. Horses were never this fat and tender. His body was starving, after running so far, making the flavor of the bear all the sweeter on his tongue.

He would rather have had Champion accept the gift, and gone hungry.

He threw the bones and skin of the bear over a cliff face, and cleaned himself meticulously of blood, before returning to Champion's camp. He lay down a respectful distance from Champion, and watched what he was doing.

Champion was burning foods in the metal pot over the fire, and it smelled delicious. His mouth watered, even though his stomachs were heavy with meat. Sometimes, traveling Hylians carried burned foods in their packs, and he had happily eaten it after he killed them. It was strange food, but good. Champion's version smelled even better. He steamed the bear meat with herbs and mushrooms, until it was soft and falling apart. He ate it with tiny white seeds, which he boiled in the meat juices until soft and fluffy.

Champion ate with gusto. He ate like he was as hungry as he had been, and his cheeks were shiny with bear grease when he was done. Champion sighed and patted his belly, as though content with the food he had eaten. As though, being so very small, he had truly accepted all he could of the food he'd been offered despite not taking the best parts.

Champion wiped his face with the back of his hand, wiped the pot out with herbs, and put the offered honey inside with a handful of chickaloo nuts and acorns. If the meat cooking had smelled good, the honey and nuts outstripped it by far. The honey melted, bubbled, thickened, and coated the nuts in a thick gleaming candy shell.

Champion nibbled these slowly, when they were done and cooled. His eyes were nearly-closed, his body relaxed and a small amount of smile touching his lips. Champion ate a few more honeyed nuts, then glanced over at him and held a hand out toward him with a few nuts. Offering to share.

He held a hand out, and Champion dropped the honeyed nuts into it. They were almost too sweet to bear, at first, but then the richness of the toasted nuts mellowed the flavor. He had never eaten anything like it, and it had been so long since he'd eaten even honey. There had been no bees in his valley.

His offering had been accepted, and Champion even saw fit to share back, placing him on steady footing. He knew where he stood with Champion, now. He reached over, his hand only just brushing Champion's shoulder before Champion leapt up to his feet and away, eyes gone sharp and hard and sword in hand.

Rejection. He had misread Champion. He returned his hands to his sides and looked away, waiting. Champion did nothing, for long moments, and then sat down again, but further away from him.

He must try harder to earn Champion's trust.


	3. enemy of my enemy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some progress is made, but it's not so easy, learning to get along.

Champion drowsed in a blanket beneath the little tent flap, and he drowsed at the base of a tree he could comfortably lean his upper half against. Champion slept lightly, awaking at any unusual sound. He slept lightly as well, alert for dangers, so when a Stalnox rose in the night and headed toward Champion, he heard it immediately. He shot its eye out, and then its eye as it rolled on the ground, and defeated it without even the need to move from his resting spot.

He yawned and let his eyes close again, but not before seeing the glint of Champion's open eyes across the dying fire from him.

 

In the morning, Champion munched on an apple and went over to inspect where the Stalnox had fallen. Champion picked up the giant boomerang that had been embedded in its skull, swung it a few times two-handed, then nodded to himself and added it to his inventory. Champion did something with the rectangle on his belt, and it made sharp beeping sounds.

The beeps hurt his ears. He shook his head, growling, and Champion looked up at him wide-eyed for a moment before closing his hand over a part of the rectangle. The beeps quieted, muffled by Champion's hand, and the both of them relaxed.

Champion turned in a circle, and walked in the direction that the beeps were loudest. He followed Champion, curious. The rectangle led Champion to the edge of the tableland, where there were cracked rocks across a stream. Champion turned the beeps off, and put the rectangle away to shoot the rocks with a bomb arrow. There was a cave, and within in, something glowing orange.

"Wait here," Champion said, and leapt lightly from the edge of the tableland to sail across the stream and into the cave.

He waited, where he had been told to, but he crouched down to see as far into the cave as possible. It was a small cave, and had a single structure inside. Champion put the rectangle on it, and most of the lights on the structure turned from orange to blue. A door opened, and Champion entered the structure.

He waited, watching the cave and the structure, as the sun rose higher. Then the structure turned all the way blue, and Champion emerged. Champion smelled like old air and strangeness, when he came back to his side of the stream. He sniffed, trying to understand it and wishing he could put his face on Champion to smell closer, but he had not forgotten Champion's rejection of the night before. He kept a respectful distance from Champion.

"There are only a few shrines left to find," Champion said. "I will have to use the radar to find them, even though the sound is annoying." Champion touched the rectangle on his hip as he said it.

He nodded. The glowing structure was a shrine, and the beeps was a radar. He would not forget this important knowledge that Champion had given him. He would endure the shrill sounds of the radar, because Champion required it.

Champion stretched, looked around with a nod, then whistled for his horse. It was a second day, much like the first, but different. Champion led, and he followed. There were times when it took all he had to keep up with Champion, but not all the time. Sometimes Champion let the black mare walk, and he walked at his side. It was nice, too, to be able to appreciate the sights and scents of the places they traveled through.

Champion looked up at him, as they walked through a grassy valley, and asked. "Could you convince other creatures not to obey Calamity Ganon?"

Calamity Ganon was what Champion called the force. He had not thought about making others turn away from the force that compelled them before, but he did now. "Lynels, maybe," he answered.

He _wanted_ to. He wanted to find other Lynels, even if he could not turn them from the force. He wanted to feel their strength against his own, and best them. It was not something he'd had, in all the time since the force had placed him in his valley. There had been only puny creatures to best, and Champion who bested him, in all that time.

"Why not other creatures?" Champion asked. "Why not Bokoblins, or Moblins?"

He sneered. "Lynels are stronger." None of those puny creatures would be strong enough to test themself against the force.

"And Hinox?" Champion asked.

He snorted, shaking his head. "Lynels are _smarter_." It needed a mind that could question, to turn against the force. The only question a Hinox asked was what to eat next.

"And the Lizals? They seem smart enough to understand that you're against Calamity Ganon now."

"Lynels think. Lizals are only angry."

They ran on, and Champion stopped here and there to catch bugs or gather herbs or break stones to collect ores. He helped, when he figured out what Champion was doing. He could easily break rock with a sharp blow of his forehooves, and gather the ores within to give to Champion. He could grab insects that flew, startled, out of Champion's reach, and hand them over safe between his cupped hands.

He could prove himself useful to Champion, as strange as Champion's tasks were.

There was also fighting. He was good at fighting, and the force wanted all creatures that served it to fight Champion. He could not best Champion, and he knew that Champion could best all the enemies that attacked him, but he could prove himself useful in killing them so Champion did not have to. He could prove his prowess and control by using his fire breath and his fire bursts only in ways that would not injure Champion.

"Does it bother you?" Champion asked, as they left behind more dead enemies—their camp burning. He did not understand, and looked at Champion as he waited for more explanation. Champion looked back, for a very long moment with his face blank, before he spoke again. "Does it bother you, killing creatures that were once on your side?"

"They serve the force—the Calamity," he tried that new word on, finding it fit nicely in his mouth. "The Calamity has them. He serves Champion now. Champion is strongest."

There was a slight line between Champion's brows, and he looked away. "What if we were fighting Lynels? Your own people?"

He shivered, tail lashing as an eager purr-growl began in his chest. "Yes."

The line between Champion's brows deepened. His voice was quiet. "...just because you think I'm stronger. What if you decide I'm not after all?"

"Champion is strongest," he answered. There was no question of that.

Champion shook his head, and did not speak again for many hours.

 

Champion stopped them in the late afternoon, when the smell of water was strong on the air. Champion bit his bottom lip, shook his head, and then spoke. "We need to cross the Lake Hylia bridge. It's a road. There might be Hylians on it." Champion looked up at him, eyes hard. "You will not harm them."

"He does not serve the Calamity," he answered.

Champion nodded, and dismounted. "The bridge is swarming with Lizals," he said, and led him on. He could smell the Lizals, of course, when they reached the crumbling old bridge. Lizals and water and the hint of Hylians and their horses and donkeys that Champion had warned him of. They crossed the bridge, the sound of the stone sharp beneath his hooves, and he galloped ahead of Champion to clear the lizals at the center of the bridge with a fireburst.

Champion whistled for his mare at the other side, and veered their path away from the road again. Away from where they were likely to come across Hylians. The air was warmer and wetter, the ground softer, and the plants thicker, on the other side of the bridge. It smelled like crushed moss beneath his and Champion's horse's hooves, and rain. The plants were different.

"Have you ever been to Faron?" Champion asked, looking up at him, while he looked up at the plants.

"He stayed where the Calamity put him," he answered, shaking his head.

"It's beautiful, but very rainy," Champion said. "The Lizals seem to love it, so keep an eye out for them."

As Champion spoke there was a faint poofing sound, sharp laughter, and two arrows whistled through the air toward Champion. He lunged forward and threw his arm out, shield in place, to block the arrows before they could reach Champion. The arrows pinged away, and Champion had sprung up from his horse to fire his own arrow back before the Yiga footsoldier could react.

The Yiga footsoldier fell to the ground, stunned. Their face was covered, eyes invisible, but their face turned toward him instead of Champion. He drew his bow, aiming at the footsoldier and more than ready to show what a real volley from a powerful bow looked like—more than ready to defeat them for Champion—but the Yiga footsoldier was weak. Already defeated. They poofed away to disappear, and after only a single arrow from Champion's bow.

"...and it's crawling with Yiga Clan," Champion said. He took the rupees the footsoldier had dropped, mounted his mare, and fiddled with the rectangle until it did the horrible 'radar' beeping again. Champion's horse seemed to be used to it, and only flicked her ears slightly at the irritant. Champion followed the beeps, where they were worst and loudest, and he followed Champion despite the pain of the sound.

There were Lizals to fight, as Champion had said. Many of them were armed with electric arrows, strong here where the ground was wet. They could not harm _him_ , but they could harm Champion. It was easy for him to draw their wrath instead, to fight them and let their rage come to him instead of to Champion.

Champion found a ball on the ground, glowing orange in markings like his 'shrine', and carried it away to a platform that was made of the same materials. Champion had to walk, with the ball—wordlessly trusting him to protect him from any enemies, and he did. He did. Nothing came close to harming Champion.

It was Lizals, only Lizals, furious at him for turning against the Calamity. There were poofing sounds, sometimes. He thought he heard. But there was no Yiga laughter. No Yiga footsoldiers attacking.

Champion placed the ball in the platform, and a new shrine emerged from the ground. "Wait here," Champion told him again, and entered it.

He waited, as he had been ordered.

It was not easy this time.

Champion was gone, and for a few moments the world was quiet of anything but birdsong. Then, a flurry of poofs, and he was ringed with Yiga—both footsoldiers armed with bow and sickle, and blademasters.

He drew his sword, and stared them down.

"Enemy of my master," one said, voice sharp and cold. "Begone."

They attacked him, and he fought them. He was strong. Only Champion could defeat him _alone_ , but there were _many_ Yiga, and they were cowards who poofed away when he tried to strike them. Champion's mare screamed and fled the moment arrows began to fly, keeping herself away from danger and out of his way. He used his fire burst, his fire breath, the power of his sword blows and claws and hooves, and he took damage, but he also damaged the Yiga fighters.

They were weak, individually. He need only hit them once—but that once was not easy. He took the Yiga clan down, one by one, and he was almost sure of his victory when one Yiga footsoldier came running back with a horde of silver and gold Lizals—strong, and well armed, and all furious.

They fell on him in a shrieking wave—he, who had defied the Calamity. He, who was once the strongest ally on their side, and was now their enemy.

He could be defeated. He had been defeated, before, by groups. They were many, these enemies, but he would not lose to them. He fought. He fought with all he had—when arrows sprouted from his golden hide, when the fire in his belly grew hollow, when his body grew slick with blood.

Only to Champion would he surrender, now. Only to Champion, stronger than even the Calamity.

The last remaining Yiga footsoldiers poofed away, all at once. He roared and charged the Lizals, and with a sudden shout Champion was among them, taking them down from behind while they focused on him. And with that, the battle was ended. The shrine glowed blue, now, and Champion's matching eyes swept over him and then around and away.

"My horse," Champion said. "Where's my horse?"

"Ran," he said, pointing the direction, and Champion ran after her.

He should follow Champion. He had made the _choice_ to follow Champion. And yet, his hooves would not move. His legs were shaking, braced wide to hold him upright. He stiffened them, refusing to allow his knees to buckle and drop him to the soggy ground. He breathed, deep into his barrel, and straightened himself high and proud.

Time would fix this, would bring back his strength and heal his wounds. He needed time, but he did not have it. Champion returned, leading his black mare. Champion looked back and forth, at everything that was left behind in the wake of the battle and at him, bloodied at the center. His mouth thinned, and a line appeared between his brows, but then with another breath his face returned to smooth blankness.

"What happened?" Champion asked. He leaned down, picking up a diamond dropped by a Lizal when the Calamity took it back, and then a curved Yiga blade. "Yiga. Why?"

"He is their enemy, now."

Champion was silent, then, for a long moment. He dropped the Yiga weapon, and looked around again as though he was counting how many were in the trampled battleground. "And you still think I'm stronger than all of them? Still want to come with me?"

He breathed deep. It hurt, but he would not die, not this time. Champion was not the one fighting him. "Yes." How could Champion doubt that? It had taken so many enemies to injure him, each one of them far weaker than Champion.

Champion looked up at him, face blank as always. "Do you have something to eat?" he asked. "You need to heal." Champion waved a hand toward his injured body.

He must not be useless to Champion. He reached down, ignoring the pain of the motion, and grabbed up a golden Lizal tail. It was tough and gamy, too lean for deliciousness, but it was food. He tore it open with his teeth, eating it in huge swallows. It did help. The worst of the pain eased, and the fire in his belly heated again. He twisted around, reaching now to pull out the arrows that had not already fallen from his hide, while Champion gathered the arrows and shiny jewels and rupees the enemy had left behind.

When he had pulled out all the arrows, he put them in his quiver and helped Champion gather the rest of the jewels and rupees. Champion liked the shiny things. Some of the Lizals had dropped fish, as well, and these he ate instead of giving to Champion. Champion _had_ told him to eat, and they helped heal him too. He was not too weak, when Champion was done gathering and mounted his horse again.

"Can you keep going?" Champion asked. His voice was strangely soft.

He lifted himself tall with a huff and a nod. Champion nodded back and led on through the trees. Champion did not go fast, and he followed. He was not sure he could have kept up with Champion if he had gone fast, not at first, but Champion did not say anything or leave him behind. He led a circuitous route to tall cliffs and mountains, and by the time they reached them his body had healed and mostly recovered.

The sun was setting, and it rained, soft and quiet with the air warm and thick. Champion shot an arrow at cracked rocks at the base of a cliff, and found a small cave behind them, which he set his camp in. It was dry, and small enough that no groups of Yiga would be able to poof inside it. Champion made a fire, and set up blankets. He lingered outside for a few moments instead until he caught two plump pigeons. They were the best he could find, to gift Champion, without wandering too far.

He brought both birds to the fire and lay them reverently at Champion's feet. He folded his legs beneath himself, and set to grooming the last of the blood from himself. Much of it had washed off in the rain, and the rest of it was softened and easily licked away to leave him gleaming gold again. There were tender spots, bald patches of healing wounds, but they would fade with time.

Once again, it seemed as though Champion accepted the offering at first. He took the birds, but then he cut only their legs off and set them on a clean rock beside the fire to burn. Then he seemed to change his mind.

"I don't want this smelling up the camp," Champion said, rejecting the rest of the birds. So he took them back and crunched them up in a few bites. They were not bad, though eating the tiny bones and feathers was never his favorite.

Maybe Champion did not enjoy eating bones and feathers, either, and had again taken only what he liked best of the offered meat. He ate up the bird legs, and some mushrooms he burned on the same rock, and sighed and patted his belly as though content.

He did not know, again, if Champion had accepted his offering or not. He had been wrong, before. He finished grooming himself, everywhere he could reach on his own, and watched Champion carefully. Champion looked relaxed, beside the fire, as though feeling safe in his company. Champion breathed slowly, and blinked long.

He was cautious, this time. He lowered his upper torso to the ground slowly, resting his weight on his elbows, then lowered further to lay his head on one arm. He was almost flat on the ground, to make himself as much smaller than Champion as possible. He closed his eyes for long seconds, making himself vulnerable, and Champion remained relaxed.

He reached out slowly, this time, as slowly as he could to give Champion as much time to react as possible. Champion sat still, watching the fire, and he fell sure of his acceptance as he lay his hand lightly on Champion's thigh.

Champion startled with his whole body, smacking his hand away. "What are you doing?" Champion snapped, tensing everywhere and leaning away from him, eyes hard again.

He withdrew from Champion, lifting himself upright—but then he was taller than Champion and that was wrong. He stood and moved instead to the cave entrance, back to Champion in complete vulnerability. He lay himself down there, watching out into the nighttime jungle and waiting, but Champion did nothing. As though he was not even enough to be acknowledged.

That hurt, far more than his body still hurt.

But Champion was strongest. Stronger than the force, the Calamity, which was stronger than him. He was so small, compared to Champion. All their battles had proven that, without a doubt.

Eventually Champion slept, and he drowsed with an eye out for the dangers of the world, to protect Champion from them.

Nothing approached their camp to threaten them, that night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much, everyone who's reading along! You're all wonderful. I love writing this fanfic, and I love the great comments I've been getting. You keep me motivated!
> 
> <3  
> TS


	4. the ocean

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A shiver passed through him. Fear. The water was so big, so much bigger than he was. Bigger than the force. Bigger than Champion. Bigger than anything.

It was still raining, in the morning. The cliffs were slick and wet with water, and Champion made a face as he looked up them. Champion was eating a banana, which grew on big plants through Faron and he had burned beside his fire. It smelled very sweet, and very good, but Champion had not offered him any, and he did not ask. He had been twice rejected.

He had not yet proven himself enough to Champion.

"I can't climb these in the rain," Champion said, gesturing toward the cliff. "And it's _always_ raining, here."

He looked up the cliff, noticing the few flat landing places up it. With the strongest of his jumps, and all his skill, he could make it up.

"Wind jump," he said. "He can help." He could do this for Champion, and get him somewhere even Champion could not get on his own. He stretched, and gathered himself. Several galloped steps to gain momentum, and he sprang up to the first tiny plateau. He grabbed the cliff face, fingers slipping on the wet rocks for a moment, before he caught and steadied himself. There was not much room to move, but he planted himself solidly and looked down down down to Champion. He held both hands out, reaching down to catch Champion.

Champion's pale face was turned up to him, but too far away for him to see details, but he did not think he would have seen anything on it anyway. Champion was always still. Then Champion crouched, and let the wind lift him in a whirlwind, right to him.

He caught Champion, at the height of his ascent, with his hands around Champion's bird-tiny ribcage. So small, and yet he could feel the firm strength of muscles as well. He threw Champion upward, as hard as he could. He sprang for the next platform, not too far, and steadied himself in time to catch Champion on his descent and throw him again.

The final platform was further away. He sprang up, caught himself on the cliff face, and sprang again off-balance. He landed on his knees, a sharp pain at the poor landing. Champion released another wind jump, and shot past the platform and then floated down toward it. He reared up to his hooves, bracing himself in time to catch and throw Champion one last time—high enough to reach the top of the cliff, and Champion was _laughing_ as he spiraled skyward and then disappeared over the edge.

One last powerful spring, with all the strength in his body, and he was at Champion's side again, where he had chosen to belong. Ready to protect him. There were no powerful enemies at the top of the cliff, though. Just trees and small ponds, and the faint hint of Rito music on the wind.

Champion looked up at him, with his cheeks reddened and his eyes shining and the faint hint of a smile on his lips—and then looked away. "Wait here," he said, and went toward the music.

He waited, and the music changed, and a thunderstorm raged, and then cleared very suddenly as a new orange shrine rose from the ground on another clifftop. From the distance, he saw Champion enter it.

He kept himself alert, sword and shield in hand, but there was no wave of Yiga Clan attackers this time while Champion was away. The shrine glowed all the way blue, and Champion emerged. He climbed down, and the music stopped, and a large blue Rito flew away, before Champion returned to him.

"No Yiga this time," Champion said. "Good. Let's search for treasure here, before the rain starts again."

He nodded. Champion nodded as well, and then began using his rectangle to pull chests out of the nearest pond with red magic. It was a far better use than the terrible 'radar' beeping. There was nothing he could do to help Champion with that, he did not have that kind of magic. What he could do was search the clifftop for breakable rocks, and smash them, to reveal what had been behind them. He carried the chests he found to Champion, to let him open them.

Champion took shiny rupees and ores, and a few of the weapons he found within.

 

Champion led him on, southward, and he followed. They passed through the mountains, and went down and down and there was a strange new scent on the wind. Wet, and rot, and a tang he did not understand. He kept his nose in the air, scenting it. It did not smell quite like a living thing, but he was on the alert regardless. He did not know what it was, until they passed over the top of a hill and a cool breeze hit him right in the face and the view opened up ahead of them.

The edge of the world.

Blue. Blue sky stretching on forever with white clouds dotted upon it, and blue below. The hazy line between. Water, he could smell it, but _so much_ of it. Even Lake Hylia was nothing compared to this. He froze in place, strange birds crying in the air and a low roaring coming from the water were the only sounds as his head swept back and forth, looking at it all. He could not see the other side of the water.

A shiver passed through him. Fear. The water was so big, so much bigger than he was. Bigger than the force. Bigger than Champion. Bigger than anything.

Champion had continued on, leaping from the peak of the hill to sail toward the endless water, but then looked back and turned around. The wind brought him back much quicker than it had taken him away. Champion leapt lightly back up the hill and looked up at him, and then out at the water, and then back.

"You've never seen the ocean."

It was not a question, and he was glad of it because he did not think he could have answered. Ocean. That was the name for this water. His tongue flicked out to wet his nose, making it more sensitive as he breathed the scent of ocean again, memorizing it.

"How big?" he asked. "How big is Lake Ocean?"

"Not a lake," Champion answered. "The ocean is where all the rivers in the world flow. There's more water than all the land in the world."

More water than land. It could not really be true? But why would Champion lie to him? He had never imagined a thing like the ocean, had no idea it could exist in the world. Champion knew much more about it than he did. He shook his head, backing several steps away from the edge of the hill. If he fell down, into that blue, he would never stop falling.

Champion looked at him for a moment, then turned and jumped over the edge again with his sail. "Come on," he said. It was an order, to follow. He had chosen to follow Champion. His hearts twisted, sickness in his stomachs, but he looked down at the ground below the hill and not out at the endless water, and jumped down. He went toward the ocean.

Champion dropped from the air to land on the wide sandy shore, and he galloped up to join him. He held himself tall and proud and _made_ himself look at the ocean again.

It was not as bad, looking _over_ at it instead of down at it. It did not seem as big, or feel like he would fall forever. The water moved, waves crashing against the sand. It was water, not more sky, though it _looked_ like sky far out in the distance. Champion looked up at him, nodded, and whistled for his horse to begin traveling down the beach.

Just like that, it was familiar again. He knew how to travel with Champion, now. There were Lizals in the water now and then, who would swim up to attack them, and he could kill them. There were occasional Octorocs in the water, easy to shoot from a distance. There were a few camps of Bokoblins and Moblins, with unusual fish roasted on spears beside their fires, and he could kill those too. He and Champion followed the edge of the water, and he learned quickly how to find footing in the sand that he would not sink into. The ocean did sometimes look like falling, out of the corner of his eye, but only in brief moments. He kept Champion in his sight, and it helped. The trees were strange and spindly, with no branches and large leaves sticking out of only the top, and there was endless water to one side of them, but it was familiar to travel beside Champion now.

The wind changed, as the day wore on, until it was rushing down from the mountains out to the sea. The sun was hot, and the day was long, and eventually he became thirsty. The water was right there, though strange and moving and smelling faintly of rot. It was what was available. He mastered his fear and strayed slightly from Champion's side to run into the shallows and scoop up a bit with his hand.

He retched as it touched his tongue, horrible salt burning his mouth. Like the pouches of it he sometimes found in Hylian's food supplies after he killed them, and he had only made the mistake of tasting once. He spat and spat, fleeing out of the water and wiping his mouth with both hands. His mouth was dry, shriveling with it, and he _needed_ water, and there was water as far as he could see and further, and it was all _poison_.

Champion looked back at him, and his eyebrows jumped in his face. He must have realized what had happened, because Champion stopped his mare and pointed at one of the strange trees. "Try a palm fruit."

There were fruits, high above at the top of the tree, and he kicked the tree to drop them to the ground. The fruits were very hard, with a thick green husk, and he tore at one with his teeth and claws to open it. Almost, he thought it was a trick and a lie, but then he found a hard kernel inside the husk, and it sloshed like water inside.

He bit it, crushing it open with his teeth, and water poured out that was almost too sweet to be delicious. Most of it was wasted, poured down his face, but it cleared the horrible salt from his mouth.

There was soft sweet jelly on the inside of the fruit, and he licked it up before throwing the fruit aside and opening another one. He used his sword to cut this one open, but he misjudged and most of the water of that one was wasted, too.

It was not until his fourth palm fruit that he got it perfect, and cut a single hole in the top of the fruit that he could pour the water out of into his mouth.

The fifth, he gave to Champion. He should have gifted them to Champion first, before he took for himself, but the salt had been so horrible in his mouth that he hadn't. He ducked his head low and gave the fruit to Champion, and Champion accepted it. Champion had forgiven him for eating first. He drank as he rode his mare, every last drop, and then tossed the empty husk away.

It was good, very good, that he had finally been able to give something to Champion that he would take all of. It was progress.

 

Later they came across a stream, pouring down the rocks toward the sea, and from this Champion drank, and the black mare drank, and when they were done he drank as well—as much as he could comfortably drink. It was good water, clear and fresh. It was enough to satisfy him for many hours.

Soon they came around a point of land, into sight of large tumbled ruins, and Champion turned around and led him back. There had been the scent of a Hylian and a fire, on the breeze. Champion looked around, at the cliff sides, and the ocean, and up at him.

"I haven't seen any sign of Yiga today," he said, and then. "Wait here."

He nodded. Champion went back around the point of land and continued on, and he waited where he had been left. Only, not _exactly_ where he had been left. He went a little down the shore so he could see around the point of land and watch where Champion went.

Champion went to a Hylian who was slumped on the ground. He did something with his rectangle, and the Hylian stood and walked away. Champion picked up something, and he could see that it was one of the glowing balls. Champion did the now-familiar action of putting it on a platform, and new shrine rose from the sand.

Champion went into it, and was gone for a long time. It rained, and was clear again, and the day was ending when the shrine turned all the way blue and Champion came back out. Champion went to speak to the Hylian again, and then mounted his mare and headed back toward him.

He returned, quickly, to the exact spot he had been left.

Champion did not speak to him, only rode past, eyes pointed down at the rectangle in his hand. He fell in beside Champion, and Champion put the rectangle back on his belt and led him on to a small camp tucked between two hills above the ocean. There was a small cloth shelter, and a metal pot for burning foods over an extinguished campfire.

Champion dismounted and took the saddle off the mare, settling in for the night. He leaned down close to the dead fire, and breathed a small careful plume of fire onto it to light it. Champion looked over at it, and nodded as though pleased.

He liked that. He wanted to do more things that pleased Champion. He ranged around the camp, making sure there were no enemies that would disturb Champion. He went down to the ocean, and he harvested palm fruits and hunted the strange short-bodied fish that lived in the water. He was better at hunting the creatures of the land, and birds, but he did know how to catch fish. He strung six good fat fish on a stick, and carried them back to camp.

He brought the fish to Champion, and lay them and the fruit at his feet.

Champion accepted them all, with his eyebrows scrunching in together to make a line in the middle of his forehead—before it smoothed to blankness again.

Champion rubbed the fish all over with pungent red spice, and strung them on skewers to roast in the pot. The smell was strong, and so good his mouth watered and his stomachs rumbled. He did not stare at the food, though. He did not beg for it. He sat himself a respectful distance from Champion and looked at him, instead.

Champion turned the fish, and added new sticks to the fire, and then looked over at him. "What's your name, Lynel?" Champion asked.

He did not know how to answer. He shook his head. "He... _is?_ " he said.

Champion looked up, at the emerging stars in the dusk sky and the waning moon, and then back at him. "You don't have one? How would another Lynel know you?"

It had been long, so long, since another Lynel had known him, or he had known another Lynel. He could remember how it had been, though, in the distance of the past. "Scent," he said. Every Lynel smelled different, their musks telling them apart. "Voice." Every Lynel's call had its own resonance. There could be no mistaking one for another. "Strength." Size and strength let every Lynel know where they stood with every other. It was all simple.

"Hm," Champion said, a curious grunt, and turned the fish skewers over again. The flesh roasted, the skins sizzled, and Champion pulled both skewers out of the pot. Champion took a big bite of tender fish, made an 'mm!' sound, and handed the second skewer toward him.

Champion was sharing back! He wanted to take the skewer of fish, but he had been wrong last time when Champion was sharing food back, and hesitated. Champion took another big bite of his own fish and shoved the second skewer more insistently in his direction.

He took it carefully, reverently, and ducked his head low as he bit into the spiced fish. It was hot like fire, and strange, and _good_. He purred pleasure, low and rough in his throat, and crunched the fish down from head to tail. The fire inside him felt hotter than ever, warming his whole body.

The ocean was a good place, even though the water was salt poison. It had given him palm fruits and fish, foods that Champion would accept from him. He must get better at catching fish, so he could give them to Champion every day.

Champion tossed the bones of his fish and the skewer stick into the fire, and sat back with a sigh, patting his belly. It was good to see him full and happy, and he was proud for having provided that for Champion.

"Thank you," Champion said. For a moment, just a moment, he was sure of his footing with Champion, and proud. And then Champion continued. "But you don't have to feed me. I can hunt for myself."

Rejected again, and worse, worse than ever before. He was not allowed even to try, anymore. It did not make sense! Why did Champion accept his offerings, and share back, if he did not mean it? He lunged to his feet, pacing circles, and across the fire from him Champion was standing with the shining white sword in his hand and his eyes as hard and bright as shards of ice. As though he were a threat, instead of having done _everything_ he could to show Champion that he knew his place. It did not make _sense_.

He turned away from Champion, charged away from the fire and the lies, and screamed all the pain and frustration out into the uncaring dark of the night sky.


	5. understanding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Today, Link and the Golden Lynel come across another Lynel

It was hard, after having been rejected so completely, to continue to travel with Champion, but what choice did he have? He did not serve the Calamity now. Either he traveled with Champion, or Champion killed him and they became enemies again. He had chosen to travel with Champion, to help him any way he could, and he chose to continue.

He spent that night, beside the ocean, on the top of a hill away from Champion's camp. When the morning came, and Champion was leaving, he joined Champion, to walk beside him.

It was hard. He tried not to look directly at Champion, even though he wanted to. He _wanted_ to watch Champion, to prove himself to Champion by figuring out what he wanted or needed and giving it to him.

He did not know what Champion wanted of him, at all.

He fought, when the servants of the Calamity attacked Champion. He did anything Champion told him to, and _only_ what Champion told him to—if it was breaking rocks and gathering ore, or clearing out a Bokoblin camp, or protecting him while Champion solved puzzles or carried heavy objects. When Champion fought a Hynox, he did as he was told and stayed back and shot it in the eye while Champion attacked it with a large sword. Together, it was not hard to defeat such an enemy.

When he hunted in the evening, he ate his kill, and cleaned himself, and returned to Champion's camp empty-handed.

Champion was, of course, able to provide for himself, as skilled a hunter as a fighter. He did not watch, when Champion hunted. He stayed on the opposite side of the camp and faced away from Champion, when Champion was burning foods beside a fire or in a metal pot and making the most delicious of smells. He remained on the opposite side of the camp, facing away from Champion, all through the night.

In the day, he stayed near Champion, following where Champion led away from the ocean and away from anywhere that smelled like Hylians or Lynels. Champion used the horrible 'radar' beeps to find shrines, and entered them to turn them blue, and only once did Yiga come and attack him while Champion was inside a shrine.

There were only a handful of Yiga, and he defeated them quickly and easily. He had learned, since their last attack, and could predict their movements more easily to strike them. Champion emerged from the shrine, and stopped short when he saw him surrounded with Yiga weapons. Champion circled around him, looking him over closely, but he was only very lightly wounded. Champion nodded, and led him on again.

On the morning of the second day since Champion fully rejected him, Champion urged the mare very close to him and looked up at him. He did not look back at Champion's face, to see if it was blank and smooth or if it was showing some expression.

"Lynel, are you angry?" Champion asked.

Angry? Why would he be angry? He did not want to hurt anyone, too filled with his own hurting.

"No," he said, and it was the first word he had said since the oceanside camp. Champion shook his head, and let the mare put some distance between herself and him again. They continued on, and he did everything Champion told him to.

The day was growing late, the sky pinks and purples with the setting sun, when Champion began to lead him into the territory of another Lynel. He could smell the other Lynel's musk on the air, pungent and masculine, and his entire body strained with eagerness. He _wanted_. Almost more than he wanted Champion to accept him, he wanted to run ahead to face the other Lynel. His hearts raced, his hide prickled, and the senses from his nose and ears sharpened to take in all information he could.

The other Lynel was weaker than he was, he could tell it in the air. He was downwind of the other Lynel, so his and Champion's scent would not be reaching the other. The black mare snorted and shook her head, smelling a Lynel's territory, nervous but not frightened. She was not frightened of him anymore, why should she be frightened of a weaker Lynel? She was protected by Champion, the strongest, who could not be defeated. Champion leaned forward to pat her neck with a soothing sound, and she calmed.

Champion was not worried either. He was doing something with his rectangle, poking at its surface as he rode. There was nothing in the world that Champion had to fear.

His muscles were tensed and ready, flanks quivering with the effort of holding himself back, when they mounted the rise and came within sight of the broad grassy plain where the other Lynel ranged. White maned, this one: weak, but proud and drawing himself up to his full height when he saw him.

Champion glanced up and gasped, as though startled, and wheeled the black mare around as if to flee.

He did not care. He let himself go, his call trumpeting forth as he charged the white maned Lynel down on all sixes. Too long, it had been far too long since he tested himself against any Lynel, even if this one was weak. The other Lynel did not surrender despite being so obviously outclassed, as eager to fight as he was, and bellowed his own challenge before breathing deep to roar fire at him. The fire burst covered him, searing-hot and licking harmlessly over his golden hide, and he plowed into the other Lynel with his whole body.

There was nothing else in the world that felt like fighting another Lynel. When they collided, all his weight and strength against the other's, it felt like hitting a cliff face. It took all his strength to lift the white-maned Lynel to flip him over. When the other grabbed him to roll him, it took _skill_ to break free of the hold and take back control. There was no need for weapons, no need for shields, there was only the heat of each others fire, the speed of each other's hooves, the strength of each others arms, and every wrestling skill they each possessed.

He was stronger, of course he won against the white-maned Lynel. It felt so good to test himself that he let the fight go on longer than he had to, before he wrestled the other down and pinned him in the scorched and trampled grass. The white-maned Lynel surrendered easily, relaxing and lifting his chin to offer his throat. He pressed his face under the other's white mane, learning his scent as deeply and intimately as possible as he gently but firmly closed his fangs around the other's throat with a low growl.

He held this pose, perfect in its simplicity and rightness, for a few long breaths before he released the white-maned Lynel, stood and shoved him away. The other was purring already, trembling and eager, and he had to fight to keep himself from doing the same. He wanted to, but not yet. It would not be right. He had not established his place.

The other climbed quickly to his feet and tried to cuddle, and that would not do, not even if if felt good. He growled and stamped his hooves, pinning his ears back and switching his tail to convey anger as he drove the other away. The other ducked low, conciliatory, and slunk a respectful distance away before turning and running to the other side of his valley. He returned quickly, with a freshly killed goat, which he lay respectfully at his feet and retreated, watching him hopefully.

The goat was a fine gift, and he paused only a moment before he bent down and tore into its belly to feast. It was rich and bloody, pleasantly gamey, and he ate first the delicious entrails before he moved on to the meat. He could have eaten the entire animal, but he did not have to, and when he was nearing the end he tore off one of the hind legs and handed it over to the white-maned Lynel. The gift had been rich enough to satisfy him, and he could accept the other as a subordinate.

The other had settled in the grass not far from him, and took it with undisguised gratitude. He finished the rest of the goat while the white-maned Lynel happily ate the hind leg. They were done at near the same time. He pushed aside the last of the bones and the skin of the goat, satisfied, while the white-maned Lynel cracked the thigh bone to lick the marrow out.

He shifted closer to the other, within easy touching distance, with a loud huff to be sure he had his attention. He looked away from the white-maned Lynel, blinking long and slow as he halfheartedly groomed himself.

The white-maned Lynel took the invitation as soon as it was made. He immediately cuddled up against his side, purring hard. The white-maned Lynel ducked his head low, staying below him, and scratched his nails gently across his whithers, where it was hard to reach, and then up his back, and then the white-maned Lynel began grooming his chest with broad licks of his rough tongue.

He should have held out, against a Lynel so much weaker than he was. He should have remained unmoved for much longer, but it had been _so long_ since anyone had touched him. He had almost forgotten how good it felt. He purred, almost as soon as the other touched him, and far faster than he should have he turned his face into the other's mane to nuzzle. They groomed each other's faces, like the best of friends, clinging to each other tight.

They were shaking, both of them, bodies trembling like terrified prey.

<How are you here?> the other asked, as the light of day faded. They had not used the low growls of their own language in an age, but they had not forgotten. <The force has moved you here to me? You smell of horse and Hylian.>

<The force is not the strongest, anymore,> he answered. <I disobey it. I choose a different path.>

The white-maned Lynel looked up at him, eyes wide. <You are grown stronger...?>

<The enemy of the force is stronger than the force. The stone-faced golden Hylian, wearing blue, I follow him,> he answered, and then, in the language of the Hylians. "Champion."

The other snorted disbelief, shaking his head in confusion. <But he is so small!> he protested.

<Does he kill you?> he asked, waiting for the other's embarrassed agreement before he continued. <I am stronger than you, and he kills me. Always. Again and again. He cannot be defeated, not even by the force. I go with him, I fight for him, and I do not die. I travel. I have smelled and heard other Lynels, and I found you. It is so much better.>

The white maned Lynel thought on this, for a time, as he groomed his shoulder and the back of his neck. <You are above me,> he finally said. <And he is above you. So he is above me. But I will not leave the place the force has put me. I am not brave.>

He purred and scratched the white-maned Lynel's back, affection returned and shared between them as it was meant to be. It was so simple, and so good, and it had been so long since he had gotten to have it. He did not want to stop touching the other Lynel, but he looked over to where Champion was.

Champion was standing at the edge of the clearing, standing between them and the black mare, and he was looking at them through the rectangle. Night was coming. Champion would want to camp, and sleep.

<Wait here,> he ordered, and stood to walk to Champion. Champion put away the the rectangle, when he drew near. He did not look directly at Champion, as he spoke. "This territory is safe for Champion tonight," he said, and returned to the patiently waiting white-maned Lynel.

Champion made a small fire, and burned foods beside it, and lay down to sleep—all far on the edge of the territory.

He spent his night curled up with the white-maned Lynel, and neither of them slept much. It had been too long since either of them touched another Lynel. He knew the other's scent, the feel of his scarred black-and-white striped hide and his thick white mane and his strength, the sound of his voice. He knew, and was known. They blended their scents together, binding them as friends. When arousal warmed him, at the long unknown touch, the other smelled it on him and purred all the louder, aroused himself.

It was simple, and good. He rolled to the side, just a little, and the white-maned Lynel groomed his lower belly and his cock until he spent in long slow pulses. The white maned Lynel rolled to the side as well, bouncing his cock against his belly to bring himself off, and he lay over the other's body to nip affectionately at his thigh and tug his cock with his hand—sharing back the pleasure that had been gifted to him.

After that they did sleep for a little while, curled together with their upper torsos laying across each other's backs—warm and close and more comfortable than he had been in an age.

In the morning, when Champion rose to leave, he wrestled with the white-maned Lynel one last time. It was not a real fight, just affectionate tussling and chasing. When Champion mounted the mare to ride away, he knocked horns with the white-maned Lynel, and rubbed the lengths of their bodies together, before he galloped away to follow Champion.

He reared up, when he was out of the other's territory but not yet out of sight. He lifted himself as high into the soft morning sunlight as he could. So he was seen, seen and known and not forgotten, and trumpeted his joy for the whole world to hear. It was good, so good, to hear his voice joined by his friend's voice. That he did not call alone.

He turned away, and followed Champion out of sight of his friend with the space between his hearts hurting as sharp as an arrow wound. He did not want to be alone again, but he still chose to follow Champion.

They crested hills and forded streams, traveling always on. The sun was not yet high in the sky when Champion guided the horse close to his side, looking up at him.

"Lynel," Champion said, and reached out as if to touch him before drawing his hand back. He looked down at Champion, and Champion had a line between his brows. Champion bit his bottom lip, and then looked forward. "I think... I need to apologize," he said. "The way Hylians are together is very different from how Lynels are with each other. I didn't understand."

He huffed in answer. If Champion had been confused, then they both had been. At least he was not confused alone.

"You don't have to do it," Champion said, quietly. "But if you _want_ to, you can hunt for me."

 

That night, he hunted two beautiful fat birds for Champion, and gathered a huge handful of the little red berries Champion liked to eat. Champion smiled at him, when he gifted them, and burned the birds beside the fire, and gave him one to eat, and gave him half of the sweet-tart berries, a few at a time as he ate them.

He was happy. He was so happy, to feel accepted by Champion after having been so rejected. He was happy to sit close to Champion's fire, at a respectful distance from Champion, and able to look at him again. He was content with it. And then Champion stood, hesitated a long moment, and stepped very close to him. He was standing very tall and straight, like a Lynel. Champion looked over at him from just the corner of his eye. Waiting?

When he reached hesitantly toward Champion, to touch and groom him, Champion looked down at his hand, and then up at his face, and nodded once.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you've enjoyed this chapter! It's such a relief to have these boys coming to some sort of an understanding.
> 
> To be honest, I expected I'd get one or two readers to this fic. I'm totally blown away by the response it's gotten so far! If you've got a sec, mind telling me how you found the fic?  
> <3  
> TS


	6. warmth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a chapter of unrelenting fluff

Champion chose to display trust in him, for the first time. He had proven himself, finally. This time when he reached toward Champion, to touch, Champion looked at him and nodded.

Champion was the strongest, but so very small. He must be gentle with Champion, like with a kit. There had been no Lynel kits, not since the force commanded and separated the Lynels, but he could still remember how it had been so long ago.

He touched Champion's shoulder first, with just the pads of his fingers. The muscle of Champion's arm was tight and firm, and he petted it twice, lightly. Then he put his hand on Champion's back. His hand was as broad as Champion's back, when he spread his fingers. He touched Champion softly, rubbed his back through the blue tunic, and then gently turned his fingertips to scratch. He had to be careful with his claws. Even though Champion was the strongest, Hylians had such thin skin. He did not want to hurt Champion.

A shiver passed through Champion's body. He was shivering, himself, with eagerness. He purred, and ran two fingertips through Champion's golden hair. It was strange hair, so soft and slippery beneath the pads of his fingers. Champion let out a breath, a sigh; bright blue eyes half-closed and unfocused, head falling back into his hand. He ran his fingers through Champions hair again and again, scratching his claws lightly along his scalp. Champion relaxed in trust, his eyes falling almost fully closed. The firelight was warm on Champion, turning his scarred skin into an even richer gold. He had no mane, no fur, no horns, no hooves—he was so small, and so strangely shaped and yet... and yet...

For a Hylian, he was almost beautiful.

Once he had tried to kill Champion, again and again. Once, Champion had killed him, again and again, until he understood that he could not win. Once, he had been alone for so long he almost forgot what it was like not to be alone. Now, because of Champion, he was not. He knew where he stood with Champion now, finally. He was accepted, and he was not alone, and Champion _trusted_ him.

It hurt to think this, somehow, an ache in his bones, even though he never wanted to go back. He leaned down to push his head against Champion's chest. He wanted to be closer to Champion. Champion gasped, whole body tensing, but then relaxed again. Champion's arm closed around his shoulder, little hand stroking, and then his slender fingers dug in through his mane to scratch the back of his head and it was all so much more than the good it had been before.

He purred louder, rubbing his face on Champion to make sure that Champion's scent got on him. He wanted to be covered in it, to let everyone who smelled him know that the enemy of the force, Champion, the strongest, had accepted _him_. He tried to groom Champion's chest, but the barbs of his tongue caught on the fabric of the tunic and Champion laughed and pushed him away.

It was gentle, Champion did not use all his strength, but he released Champion when he was pushed. Champion smiled at him, his cheeks reddened and his soft golden hair standing out in messy tufts that begged to be licked down smooth.

"That's enough," Champion said, taking step back, and then his brow furrowed and he rocked half a step back. "Was that... enough?" he sounded uncertain.

"Yes," he said, because it was so much more than just 'enough' and he did not know the Hylian words to say so Champion would know that. He wasn't sure he even know how to say it in his own language.

Champion nodded, and turned away to his sleeping blankets with his face going smooth and blank again. He made himself comfortable, near the fire and his weapons. "Good night, Lynel," he said.

"Yes," he agreed. It was a good night. It was a _very_ good night, and he was happy that Champion agreed with him—that they were both happy. "Sleep. He will guard."

"I know," Champion said, softly.

 

They traveled on: mountain and valley, river and ocean. Champion found hidden shrines, and turned them blue. He battled side by side with Champion, and hunted for him, and caught him bugs and broke ore-bearing rocks for him.

It was better, now. Better than it had ever been. Champion would touch him now, sometimes. When Champion wanted to move past him, or catch his attention, he would put a hand on his shoulder or back—simple, easy touches. And Champion would often gesture toward something he wished to get to the top of with a turn of his chin and ask for a 'boost' onto it.

He liked being able to help Champion that way. He liked being trusted to pick Champion up, to use his strength carefully enough not to hurt him, while throwing him up in the air as high as possible. He liked that he could touch Champion, now, that he could run his claws through Champion's slippery hair or rub his back and that Champion would sometimes lean against him in those moments at the end of the day when Champion was accepting his grooming.

He met two more Lynels—a weak blue-maned Lynel who submitted without fighting him at all, and was terrified of Champion—and a wonderfully strong silver Lynel that exhausted him before he won. He shared closeness, food and touch and comfort, with them both. That, also, was good. The blue-maned Lynel was happy to agree to stay away from Champion and never challenge him again. The silver agreed that it was possible Champion was stronger than the force, and that maybe it was time to test the boundaries of the force's control. Neither of them was ready, yet, to stray far from their given range.

Those nights he spent with other Lynels, Champion stayed far away from him. It would have been good to have both, to have Champion and another Lynel, but Champion did not want that. Champion only trusted and accepted _him_ , and that was also good.

Champion guided the mare very close to him, on the morning after the night spent with the silver Lynel. Champion did not say anything, but did smile a little when he reached out to gently ruffle Champion's hair.

Maybe Champion had missed being close to him, as much as he had missed being close to Champion.

 

They climbed mountains, high and cold with ice. Their breaths hung like smoke in the air, and Champion had left the black mare behind. They found paths, together sometimes, and separately other times. With his fire breath he could easily melt blocks of ice that blocked Champion's path or hid enemies or chests within.

They found a sheltered cave, where one of Champion's shrines had been hidden, to spend the night. Champion made a fire, and he wore thick white clothes that smelled of Rito feathers, but he still stomped his feet and moved his arms to try and make himself warmer.

They ate well that night, two wolves he had caught, and Champion only wanted to burn a little of the meat to eat. He ate the rest, a hearty meal to fuel him through the cold night.

Champion came and leaned against him as soon as the food was gone. "You're warm," Champion said, and he put both arms around Champion to hold him close. Champion did not move away again soon. He stayed, pressed against him, for a long time. "It's so cold," Champion said eventually, turning to look at his blankets, which were on the other side of their fire. "Can I sleep next to you?"

"Yes!" he said, and licked Champion's cheek, affectionate grooming. "He wants."

Champion laughed and squirmed out of his hold. There was a dampened red patch on his cheek, and he wiped the wet away but the red remained. Maybe his tongue was too rough, for Champion's thin Hylian skin. But Champion was smiling, and went and grabbed the blankets to bring them to his side.

Champion lay down, back pressed to his side and burrowed down in his blankets. So small and easily crushed, like a kit, but he would be careful not to hurt Champion. They were growing so much closer, now, sleeping side by side like friends. It was more good than he had dared to want, in all the ages he had served the Calamity.

He put one hand over Champion, to warm him, and rested.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _finally_ getting to what I actually wanted to write this fic for...


	7. gold and gold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Champion took him into the territory of another golden Lynel.

Champion took him into the territory of another golden Lynel, with musk so strong he could smell it far out ahead on the approach—even though he was upwind.

"Do you want to face another Lynel?" Champion asked him. "We don't have to go this way."

"Yes!" He strained forward. "He wants." He wanted, with his whole body, even though he was afraid, too. His victory was assured against any other type of Lynel, but not against another gold. It would be a long and bitter fight, and he needed it. He needed to test himself against the other gold, to find out where he stood.

"Go on." Champion smiled, slightly, gesturing him forward with a turn of his sharp chin. "Make me proud."

Champion was _giving permission_ for him to run ahead and fight, and telling him to win. The instant he understood, he charged forward with every bit of speed his body could give him. It was more, now, than when he'd left his lonely valley with Champion. All the running he'd done, chasing Champion, had made him faster. All the fighting had made him stronger. For a moment, he believed that there was nothing in the world but Champion that could best him. He believed he would win, must win, knew it deep in his stomachs—and then _she_ burst out of the treeline on all sixes, well outside the boundaries of her territory.

The other golden Lynel plowed into him with a feral snarl, bowling him over, and in an instant she was on top of him, fighting him down. Almost, the fight was ended there. Oh, she was beautiful, her mane wide and full, her body bursting with power, her musk heady and thick and delicious.

He wanted, then, as much as he had wanted to fight her, he wanted to submit to her. But more than that, more than anything else, he wanted to do as Champion told him. Champion had said to make him proud, and Champion would not be proud of him if he did not win. Champion trusted him to win. He was not fighting for himself, for his own pride and place, he was fighting for Champion, stronger than even the force that had overpowered all the Lynels. He _would not_ submit, not to anyone but Champion.

He fought, throwing the other Lynel off of himself and surging up to try and pin her instead. She bellowed, joyful challenge that he answered, and then they were fighting in earnest. It was a long fight, and brutal. Trees broke, splintering into cutting shards when they flung each other into them. The flames of their fire lit broken trees and grasses, and the trampling of their hooves and the slams of their bodies crushed the fires out. They took wounds, both of them caught by incautious hoof placements, pierced by unsheathed claws, struck with glancing horn-blows. They were bruised, scraped, and far too well matched for an easy winner. They wore each other down, slowly, but neither could pull ahead.

<Submit!> she growled, an order he could not obey. She pushed down on him, the sweat on their bodies sliding together. <Submit, and let me be kind.>

He could not, as good as it sounded, as much as he wanted to. It was not an option. <I serve the enemy of the force, stronger than even the force.> He twisted, slipping from her grasp and driving her backward. <I submit only to the strongest.> If he defied the force, stronger than her and stronger than him, he could not submit to her. That was not how it worked.

She escaped his grasp, throwing him on the momentum of his own push, but she did not pursue. She did not pounce to try and pin him. She stood tall and proud, looking down on him for several huge-panting breaths, then the other golden Lynel folded her legs beneath herself and lowered herself to the ground. She raised her chin, lifting her mane to offer him her throat.

He climbed upright, and pressed his face beneath her mane in the most perfunctory of nips—teeth barely brushing her—before allowing himself to lie down. He rested his head on her powerful shoulder and purred. He would not shame her, making her act out the submission she had gifted him before accepting her. With her battle prowess, already she had proven herself.

She was shaking like a prey animal, and he was not. It was good, to be so close to her, but not overwhelming. Not anymore. He was not so alone as he had been. Now he had shared touch and comfort with several other Lynels, and he shared touch and closeness with Champion every day.

They were both breathing hard, and they did not speak for a time as they licked each other's small wounds and held on tight to each other.

<You left your territory,> he said, wondering. He had never been brave enough, not until Champion expected it of him.

<I smelled you,> she purred. <I needed to face you.>

He could understand that, and they were quiet again, enjoying each other's closeness. They knew each other's strength, each other's scent, the sound of each other's purrs, and for the moment that was enough.

<You serve the enemy of the force,> she said, finally. <Why?>

"Champion," he named him, in Hylian. <He cannot be defeated. He is stronger than the force.>

<Is he?> she asked. The roughness of her tongue licked up his shoulder, cleaning a small scrape he had gotten in their fight.

He nuzzled the other Lynel's mane, her ear, and licked her cheek, before answering. <He must be,> he finally said, and then, <I choose to serve him.> Because that was also true. <It is better. I serve him, and I do not die. I serve him, and I see the world. I serve him, and I am _here_. >

He had been so alone. He had been so alone, for so long, and if he had to go back to his valley alone he would... he would not. He _could_ not. The pain of it would kill him.

<And you will defeat the force?" she asked. <You and the enemy, together?>

<Yes.>

She leaned back to look at him, eye to eye as equals, and then she leaned forward to press her horns to his chest. <Good,> she said, and there were years of loneliness and pain echoed in the single word.

They lay there for a time, sharing closeness as they recuperated, until they both noticed Champion watching them from on the edge of the scorched and torn up ground from their fight. She pulled away from him, then, and stood to stretch.

<Come to my territory,> she said, and wheeled to run to it. He stood, and shook himself to clear the shards of broken wood and the ash of burnt grasses from his body.

He walked toward Champion, and Champion tensed, eyes sweeping over him, and then relaxed. "You're _my_ Lynel," Champion said, walking up to meet him.

He purred and leaned down to push his face against Champion's soft hair. His hearts warmed, the fire in his belly pulsing at Champion's words. "Yes," he said. "Yours. He wins for you." It was more than worth the long fight to be accepted by Champion, to know that he had done what Champion wanted. Champion scratched affectionately at his chest with blunt nails. Champion's cheeks were slightly reddened when he lifted himself back up to his full height. "Come," he said, and led to where the other Lynel had gone—to her territory.

Champion walked at his side, the black mare left behind. They made their way through the forested hills, to the wide meadow that was her territory. She met them, galloping up with a boar in her arms which she lay, reverently, at Champion's feet. "She also chooses Champion," she said.

Champion drew himself up very tall and straight, though his eyes were very wide, and nodded to her sharply. She relaxed, and lay down near to watch him as Champion began to cut off a small piece of meat.

He wanted to lay down beside her, to continue to touch and groom, but he knew that Champion would want a fire to burn the meat. He cantered over to the nearest trees to quickly gather wood, and brought an armful to Champion's side. He stacked them, how Champion would, and lit them with a careful plume of flame.

Champion smiled at him, and touched his arm as thanks. _Then_ he went and lay beside the other gold Lynel. Her nails felt good on his back where he could not reach to scratch, and he returned the affection.

Champion put his piece of meat by the fire. Champion then looked at the rest of the boar, and up at him, and at the other Lynel, then the boar again, and then him. There was a fine line between his brows, and then his face smoothed to blankness again. "The rest is yours," Champion said, looking at him. "And yours," looking at her.

It was good. Good both that Champion had seen that the other Lynel was worthy, and that _he_ was still gifted back to before her, even if just a moment before her. They grabbed the boar, heavy and rich with fat, and shared it between them. There was enough for both of them to be full and satisfied, and Champion was also full and pleased with his small portion.

He and the other Lynel finished the bulk of the boar, and cleaned each other so there was no hint of blood staining their golden faces and manes.

<The enemy of the force is kind,> she said.

<Yes.>

She looked up and away, and then stood. <Go. Defeat the force. I will not serve it anymore. I have smelled other Lynels, on the highest winds. I will find them.> She looked at him, and then at Champion. She lowered herself to all sixes to look closely at Champion's face, and when she spoke again it was in Hylian. "Free us, Champion."

It was an order. It was disrespectful. He growled and lunged up to defend Champion's place, but already she had lifted herself and turned away. She flicked her tail in his face, the wonderful scent of her musk filling his nose. <Find me again afterward,> she challenged. <We will see who submits.>

He would have fought her again, though he did not know if he could subdue her if she did not choose to submit, but she was not interested in fighting him again. Already she was heading away, gathering speed as she ran the direction she had smelled another Lynel in all the years she had been alone. She reared up as she reached a hilltop, trumpeting out her joy, and he lifted his voice to join hers. Then, she was gone.

Champion was standing, looking out at where she'd disappeared. "What is she doing?" he asked.

"She finds other Lynels," he said. She would not be alone, anymore, and the Lynels she found would not be either. That was good.

"Oh," Champion said. He chewed on his bottom lip with his blunt little teeth, and then shrugged. "We should keep moving, too." Champion whistled for the mare, and rode at a comfortable pace away from the other gold Lynel's abandoned territory. He was glad that they were not going fast. Eating the boar had helped restore his strength, but he was still sore and bruised from the brutal fight.

It had been wonderful, to face a Lynel who matched him so well. He would remember their battle joyfully, but most joyful of all was to travel at Champion's side—to be _his_ , trusted, and chosen above any other.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so, needless to say in my headcanon f!Lynels (and nb!Lynels too of course) look pretty much identical to m!Lynels. (there were a couple last chapter that didn't get any pronouns)
> 
> Probably Lynel society works, in some ways, like a pride of lions -- so the women are more about the community building and bonding (and are better hunters) so this gold has been feeling the isolation even more than our poor Lynel has.
> 
> Though they haven't gone to Hyrule Castle yet, Link and Lynel are already chipping away at Calamity Canon's control.


	8. Ginner Woods

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's one last thing Link must do.

"There's one last thing I have to do," Champion said. His jaw went tight, and his eyes distant. Champion did not say anything else, just climbed onto the black mare and led him on. They were near a road, much closer than Champion used to take him to a road, but still not on it. When Champion saw a Hylian on the road, they went further away from it.

They moved fast, but not running—a pace both he and Champion's horse could go all day without trouble.

In the evening, they came to a woods with larger trees than most. There was a smell on the air, of Hylians and fires and animals, many of them. Before he could smell it well enough to understand, or ask Champion, they were attacked.

At first, it was only a few Bokoblins and a Moblin—silver and gold, but easy to defeat—but before he and Champion cut them down, there were two Yiga blademasters. Champion's face was blank and smooth as they methodically took the enemies down.

They knew how to fight together so well now, he and Champion. He could see which way Champion would go, in the turn of his head, the shift of his feet, and be there to guard his back or dive away to distract an enemy. He could strike harder than Champion, but Champion could move faster than him, and he did not believe there was anything in the world he and Champion could not take down together.

They had only one blademaster left, and then there was a crashing and a huge silver Hinox arrived. Champion gasped, eyes going wide, as if he had never seen a silver Hinox either.

He shot the Hinox in the eye, then the blademaster made the mistake of poofing into being right beside him, and he smashed him in the face with his shield. The blademaster collapsed, and poofed away.

Champion was already attacking the Hinox. It might be silver, but it was still only a Hinox. They knew how to defeat them, together. He notched another arrow, waiting for his opportunity to shoot it in the eye again for Champion.

There was a scream nearby, a Hylian voice, and Champion's head jerked toward it. The Hinox swiped at him, a blow Champion would usually dodge with a beautiful flip to rush in and attack again—only this time he did not. He was struck, flying through the air to hit into a tree.

Champion was hurt. _Champion_ was hurt, and he roared with all his strength and blew his biggest and hottest fireball at the Hinox to distract it before he charged in. It squealed and danced in place, stomping at the flames. He readied himself for the attack, but then Champion was there. Champion threw aside a bottle, potion coloring his mouth red as blood, and his brilliant blue eyes as wild and fierce as a Lynel's.

"I have this," Champion snarled, lips curled up from his blunt teeth. He pointed away, toward where there was another scream. "Protect the Hylians."

He wheeled without hesitation, and ran toward the other fight. He did not want to, he wanted to fight at Champion's side, but he would not disobey. There were two Hylian women, attempting to fight three gold Bokoblins. They were weak, the Hylians. Champion would have defeated the Bokoblins beautifully, fast and fierce, flipping and twisting through the air and rushing in to kill. He knew, better than anyone, how frustrating it was to fight Champion when every attack was another chance for Champion to bring pain. He knew better than anyone how good it was to watch Champion fight.

These Hylians couldn't even damage the Bokoblins; could barely guard themselves from the Bokoblin attacks. He rushed in, trampling with his hooves and striking with both sword and shield. The Bokoblins, taken by surprise, were defeated in moments. He was not as strong as Champion, but he had once been the strongest of the Calamity's servants, and he had learned far better how to defeat the others who served the Calamity in the time he had traveled with Champion.

The Bokoblins went to purple smoke, returning to the Calamity to rise again with the red moon, and the Hylians were safe. One of them was curled up on the ground, whimpering with her shield raised toward him. The other shouted and jumped at him, cutting into his side with her short sword. As if he could not survive any wound she could give him, as if any Hylian other than Champion had ever defeated him alone. He grabbed her by the face, and tossed her away to cower on the ground beside the other. He snorted a curl of flame and smoke, and turned to go back to Champion.

There was Champion, running up to meet him. Champion looked unharmed. They stopped, when they were near each other, and Champion's gaze swept over him, catching briefly on the cut on his side.

"Wait here, Lynel," Champion said, and went to talk to the Hylians. He waited, where he had been told to, and watched. He was too far away to hear their words. Champion talked, waving his hand a bit, and one of them said something, and Champion laughed and scratched the back of his neck. Then one of them handed Champion something, and Champion nodded and left them to come back to him.

"Touch me, please," Champion said, when he was near, glancing toward the Hylians.

That was not normal. Champion had never asked that before. He usually touched Champion when he wanted to, now, and Champion would come close to him to let him when they camped. He did not disobey, though. He reached out and ruffled Champion's slippery gold hair. Champion turned and waved at the Hylians. They said something to each other, one of them shrugged, and the other waved back as they wandered off into the trees.

"Thank you," Champion said. "Here. They wanted you to have this, for saving them." He handed over a few balls of the white seeds—rice—that smelled like mushrooms.

He did like rice when Champion had gifted it to him, and it was good that they saw that he was above them, but they should have given the food to Champion. Champion was above him. "For Champion," he said, handing them back.

Champion paused, then took a bite out of one, and gave them to him again. That was better. Champion had taken what he wanted, and eaten first. He happily ate the rest of them, and it did make him feel stronger after his battles even though it was not much food.

Champion had out his rectangle, what he had once called 'slate', and was poking at it. It had a map, images that let him know where everything in the world was. There was a line between his brows. "There shouldn't be a Hinox here," he said. "And it was... stronger than I've ever seen." He looked up and away. "Calamity Ganon knows," Champion said, simple and cold. Champion looked up at him. "We're almost done. There's one last place I have to go."

"He is with Champion," he answered, strong and proud.

"No," Champion said. "Hateno is a Hylian village, you can't come. Stay here in Ginner Woods, there's good hunting. I will come back."

He did not like it. He did not like it at all. He paced in a circle, shaking his head. He _chose_ to go with Champion, but Champion was choosing to leave him behind. He chose to obey Champion, instead of the Calamity, and he stopped. His arms drooped, heavy. "He obeys," he said.

Champion touched him, small hand on his side, and he lowered himself to his belly to be closer to Champion. "I'll be back tomorrow," Champion said. His jaw had gone tight again. "The Goddess will give me the strength I need."

"Champion is strongest," he said.

Champion did a thing with his face, as though trying to smile but unable to. Champion touched his mane, gently, and then whistled for the mare and rode away. And he was left alone to wait.

 

Champion came back the next day, like he had said. It was early early in the morning, with the light bright and gold to make Champion's golden hair and skin shine. Champion's face was hard and smooth and blank.

Champion hardly looked at him, when he reached out to touch him, happy to be with him again. Champion smelled different, like himself and like he was fresh cleaned but also... more. Somehow, he smelled like he was stronger than he had been before.

"It's time." Champion's voice was cold and distant. "To Hyrule Castle," he ordered, and urged the mare into a canter.


	9. Hyrule Castle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Champion was heading for the castle, the center of the Calamity's strength, and his burning blue eyes did not see anything else.

They traveled fast and far from Ginner Woods—as fast as the black mare could manage, and as hard as he could go. Away from the Hylian village of Hateno, through the dueling peaks, and out into Hyrule Field in the early afternoon.

They ran north through the field, skirting ruined buildings and ignoring camps of Moblins or Bokoblins who might have fought them. Champion was heading for the castle, the center of the Calamity's strength, and his burning blue eyes did not see anything else.

Champion left the exhausted mare at the edge of the ruins, and ran toward the castle on foot, and he ran at Champion's side. The force of the Calamity was thick in the air, choking weight. " _Destroy_ ," it whispered. " _Destroy the one who does not serve me_." But he would not. Champion was the strongest, and the best, and he would never bow to the force again.

There were enemies, there in the ruins, metal crawlers without emotion or honor. They were the tools of the ruling force, and nothing more. Champion shot them with arrows in their glowing eyes, and ran on while they were still stunned. He did the same, keeping them away from Champion. The guardians shot at them, beams of burning light, but they were slow and he and Champion were moving too fast to be hit.

"Get me to the top," Champion said, pointing up to the floating cliff and the stone castle built on top of it, and he obeyed. He found a route, gave Champion a 'boost' when necessary, and brought him to the base of the cliff. He could not climb it, it was too high, but he could throw Champion upward and let him begin the climb high up the cliff.

There must be some way he could get to the top, some route he had not yet found, but he could not see one.

" _Destroy,_ " the force whispered, potent and powerful, and he _would not_ serve it.

<No. Your enemy will destroy you,> he answered, growled out in his own language, fierce in his pride.

_"Then DIE!"_

They came in a wave, guardian walkers clambering over ruined buildings, and flying ones sweeping in from the sides. He roared, and drew his bow. First he blew out fire bursts, but they did not catch fire. Next he shot exploding arrows in volleys, as fast as he could shoot them, but it was not enough. Not against so many of them, and not against enemies that were made of metal rather than flesh. They were not easily damaged, and he could not hit them all in the eye. He could not keep them all stunned, and once one hit him with an exploding beam, and he flinched, there was time for the rest to fire on him. He tried to shoot, again and again, but the bow broke in his hands when a guardian's beam struck it.

He attacked the guardians with his sword, taking damage as he damaged them, but they were made of harder metal than his sword, and it broke, and he was disarmed entirely. He backed up against the cliff, taking cover behind his shield, but the shield was small and he was large and there were so many shooting at him. It burned, agony all over him, how no natural fire had ever burned him, hotter by far than a Lynel's fire. It seared into his skin, the scent of burning hair and flesh thick around him.

Still, he held. He held on, until one too many beams struck his shield and it shattered on his arm. And then he was defenseless, as the guardians advanced. He knew death. He had died so many times, more than enough to know when he was dying. When the strength left his body, when the pain was too great, he knew how to die.

He had _wanted_ to die, sometimes, when Champion broke his body beyond bearing. He had wanted the pain to end, to let go and rise again healed. He did not want that, this time. He did not want to leave Champion, ever again, but he did not have a choice. He had always been strong, but there was a point when even _his_ will could not keep him alive. He felt it coming on, the unraveling, the fade into nothingness.

He was done. He had done all he could, bringing Champion here to defeat the Calamity. He did not want it to be over. He wanted to be with Champion, to protect him forever. He did not want the Calamity to take him, but it came for him slowly, and then all in a rush.

He screamed out, one last defiant roar as he reared up. He had his pride, if he had nothing else. He had brought Champion to the Calamity, and he knew Champion would defeat it, even if he would not get to see it happen himself. This knowledge was not enough, he wanted more, but it was all he had.

The purple was closing in, the fade taking him. It was his end, and he could not fight it any longer. He had never been stronger than the Calamity.

"No!" The cry echoed out over him. Champion.

Above him he could see Champion's silhouette, faintly, falling down toward him with his bow drawn. Champion shot his bow, impossibly fast, and half of the guardians exploded around him. Everything was fading out, graying in front of his eyes as the life left him. Champion's arm moved, and something struck him, almost unnoticed in the agony of his death.

There was a mote of light, a bright gleam dancing around him, and the life rushed back into his body—the colors back into his vision. A fairy, pulling him back from the agony and the fade. Weak, and in too much pain to fight, but still _alive_. Champion landed beside him, barely catching himself with his sailcloth to soften the landing. Champion shot again, strange blue arrows into the guardians' eyes and they exploded with a single shot. In moments, they were all gone, and Champion turned to him.

"It can't take you," Champion snarled. He pulled a red bottle from his pouch, tugged the stopper out with his teeth, and grabbed onto his chin to pour it into his mouth. He swallowed, and the magic of it coursed through his body, healing him. Champion's body was shaking, small hands clinging to him. His eyes were very bright, overflowing with water. "You're mine," Champion said, petting his mane, his ears, his chest where the deepest wounds had healed and closed. "You're _mine,_ Calamity Ganon can't have you."

"Yours," he said. Champion had saved him. Champion had given up one of his precious fairies, and used up one of his carefully hoarded potions, to bring him back from death, and his hearts filled up and overflowed. "He is yours, forever."

Champion threw himself forward, clinging to him and gasping with sobbed breaths. He held Champion, as gently as with a kit, and purred to comfort him. Champion drew back, after only a few moments.

"Come on," Champion said, looking up at him and _seeing_ him as he hadn't since before they went to Ginner woods, even with his eyes red-rimmed. "We need to go. It isn't safe here. Can you walk?"

He heaved himself carefully to his feet, balancing on limbs that moments before had been unable to hold him. "Yes," he said, and followed slowly and gingerly as they left the whispering malice of Calamity Ganon behind.


	10. hunt-brothers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I promised you smut

Champion led him back out of the ruins, to a small copse of trees in Hyrule Field, in sight of Hyrule Castle and the swirling malice of Calamity Ganon that surrounded it. The trees grew around a broken platform with broken columns and a shallow pond around it, and there was no good cover, but there were no enemies there other than one crawling guardian, which Champion shot with his blue arrows to send it back to the Calamity.

"Rest," Champion said, and he was glad to obey. He lay himself down in a patch of soft grass in the sun, to recover his strength. Champion did not rest. His face had gone very still and blank again, but he paced back and forth beneath the trees, his shoulders tense and his hands opening and closing. He rested, letting his body recover its strength, and watched Champion.

"Calamity Ganon can't have you back," Champion said again, after some time of this.

"He is yours, now," he answered.

Champion had liked that answer before. This time Champion stopped and stared at him with wide eyes for long moments before saying, quietly, "No."

It hurt, almost as much as dying, for Champion to reject him after all this time. Champion had been kind to him, and he had tried to be good to Champion. He had tried to prove himself, but Champion was the strongest, and he had lost his battle with the guardians. Maybe Champion had seen that he was too weak, and must reject him. He did not want that. Champion had saved him, and held him, and he served _Champion_. He could not go back to Calamity Ganon now, even Champion said so. He _would not_. There was no one in the whole world worthy to be above him but Champion, and no one he would rather fight beside.

"He is _yours!"_ he roared, surging back to his feet to show what strength he had left—he had no weapons, but he was gold and he was strong. He reared up, striking out with his deadly forehooves and then dropping, quickly, when his hind legs threatened to buckle under his weight. He had to hold on to a tree to catch his balance and stabilize himself, showing weakness when what he needed most was to prove his strenght. Champion made a small sound he could not interpret. He forced himself upright, standing tall and proud. "He _wants_ to be Champion's," he said.

Champion reached his hands out, gesturing him down. "You need to rest."

He shifted his shoulders back, straightening his spine to be even taller, and stared Champion down.

Champion had a line between his brows, the only thing that broke the smoothness of his face. They held each other's gaze for a long moment, and he looked Champion in the eye like an equal and refused to break and look away first to acknowledge Champion as above him. He was able to show strength in this one way, and no other, as his Champion rejected him.

It was Champion who closed his eyes and dropped his head, shaking it with a sigh. "I'm not a Lynel," Champion said, quietly. "...I've done it all wrong." Champion stepped up to him, taking one of his hands between his two smaller ones and tugging down on it—and he finally obeyed Champion and lay down.

It was a relief to be off his hooves again. Champion lay himself against his chest, and he covered Champion's back with one hand and did not understand. Champion was rejecting him and sharing touch with him at the same time and it made no sense.

"I'm not a Lynel," Champion repeated. "And I can't just use you, like Calamity Ganon did. You're not allowed to die for me."

He did not understand. Champion was the strongest, stronger than Calamity Ganon and yet so much kinder and better to serve. He could understand the last, though, more than the rest of it. "He dies, many times," he said. He knew how to die. Champion himself had killed him, far more times than anyone else had ever managed to.

Champion took a handful of his mane, at the side of his head, the strength of his tug on it at odds with the softness of his voice. "What if you die, and the Calamity doesn't bring you back to me?" There was water in Champion's eyes again when he leaned away from his chest to look into his face, though Champion's face was otherwise blank. "You're the only ally I have to fight beside me. _No one else_ is allowed to die for me."

He had not thought of that, that if he died when he did not serve the Calamity he would not rise again with the red moon. It had been that way once, in the distant past before the force took the Lynels as its own. He had nearly forgotten. He might be able to die, and be dead, and gone.

Once, he might have wanted that, when it was not a possibility and he could not even think it. Before he knew Champion, and was freed of his tiny lonely valley. He did not want to die, he did not want to be dead any more than he wanted the Calamity to take him back, but he did not fear it. It was not the way of golden Lynels to fear.

He did not know how to say any of it, in the words of Hylian speech so Champion could understand him. He ran the tips of his claws through Champion's hair, ruffling the slippery gold strands while Champion still allowed him to. "He chooses to serve Champion," he said, only, with the space between his hearts heavy with the sorrow of rejection.

"No," Champion said again, shaking his head and leaning into his hand—denying him and enjoying his grooming at the same time.

"He does not understand."

"I know," Champion said, sharp with frustration. He pushed away from him to pace again, back and forth. Champion pulled his own hair, leaving it messy and sticking up all over. "Everyone wants something. Save us, Link, Champion of Light. My whole life. Everyone wants me to fix everything." Champion stopped, looking at him, brow crumpled with confusion to match his own. "Everyone but you. You only ask to help me."

"He is—"

"I don't _want_ you to belong to me!" Champion broke him off, before he could even complete the words. Champion tugged his own hair again, snarling ferociously. "I want _you_! As an ally, and a shield-brother. I want you at my side. I want you at my back. I should be protecting you, while you protect me. You're mine, but I'm _yours_!" Champion shouted, pounding his fist against his own chest, where Hylians kept their single heart.

There was silence, then, with all the birds and bugs frightened by the loud noises. Champion groaned, covering his fierce blue eyes with his hand. His voice was quiet again, when he spoke. "Do Lynels have anything like that? Equals? Or friends?"

He almost said no, that there was no such thing, but then he remembered—in the long-before there had been. Lynels of matched strength had banded together, young ones who wandered from their homelands for adventure, or parents who joined together to raise their kits in tandem, or old Lynels who would not fight for status—some of these partnerships had lasted through all three, an entire lifetime. He had never been a part of such a partnership in the times before the Calamity, he had always been too strong, and too proud, and it was always less common for males to make those partnerships. But now Champion, the strongest of all, offered it to _him_. Not the rejection it had seemed, but an invitation to more. Even though he was weak and defeated.

"Is there any way I can make you understand?" Champion asked, soft and broken.

He spoke the word in his own language, and then trying to find the words in Hylian for Champion, "Hunt... brothers?" It was not a good translation, but if Hylian had a better way to describe it, he did not know how.

"And what are hunt-brothers?" Champion asked, looking up at him.

"Partners," he tried to explain. "Hunt-brothers share everything the same: food, territory, traveling, grooming, mating. They are scents mixed up, smelling the same. They fight together, eat together, sleep together, die together. Always together." They had done many of those things, because Champion was kind, but it was not the same as hunt brothers. Champion had always been above him. Champion was nodding, but he shook his head, waving one clawed hand to swipe the idea away. "Hunt brothers are the same, same strength. Champion is stronger."

"And if I _want_ to be your hunt brother anyway?" Champion said, sharp little chin lifted, but not in anything like submission. How strange, that he could make even that gesture look like a challenge.

There might have been words that could answer Champion, but he did not know them. Instead he reached out, grabbing Champion by his torso and pulling him in close. He licked the top of Champion's head, purring as he finally groomed his messy hair down smooth and sleek. Champion made a sharp gasping noise, and flailed his arms briefly, but then began to laugh. Champion's clever fingers dug into his mane, scratching at all the best places, and he purred harder.

 

Champion hunted for _him_ , that evening, leaving him to rest and returning with a mountain doe slung over the black mare's back. They shared it together. He ate the delicious organ meat, and cracked the marrow bones, and Champion cooked part of the muscle meat with mushrooms and herbs, and they shared that, too. It was also delicious, in a different way than the raw meat was.

They were very different, he and Champion. Different in strength, different as Lynel and Hylian—but maybe like sharing the doe and each getting what they wanted most, they _could_ make a good partnership as hunt-brothers.

With so much rich food, and the time to rest, he recovered his strength. The pain was fading as his body healed. He did not need it, but Champion still used another of his red potions on him. Champion poured the potion on a piece of cloth, and cleaned each one of the aching burn marks on his body to speed their healing. It felt good, to have his tiny golden hunt-brother touching him all over. He purred, and moved how Champion asked him, to allow Champion to check him all over. When Champion was satisfied, he grabbed him again to share touch and grooming.

It was strange, strange but _good_ , to be rubbing his scent on Champion as much as he tried to get Champion's scent on himself. Anyone who smelled them would know that he was hunt-brother to Champion, the strongest. They began to smell the same, and the longer they were hunt-brothers the more similar they would smell. Arousal warmed his stomachs at these thoughts, pooled pulsing between his hind legs, but if Champion smelled it at all with his weak nose, he did not immediately act on it.

He simply touched Champion. He was not worrying about watching Champion and trying to do what Champion wanted, he was only enjoying. He could push his face against Champion's neck, nuzzle under his arms, smelling him deeply. He had always liked the feel of Champion's torso, so small in his hands when he was giving Champion a boost. Now, he could pick Champion up that way just because he wanted to hold and feel him.

Champion was anything but passive. Champion stroked his arms, blunt nails digging into his muscles—or touched his face, his ears, scratched around the base of his horns where it felt _so good_. Champion rubbed their faces together, and pressed his lips to the soft skin of his eyelids, delicate and intimate. The scent of Champion's arousal began faintly, so gradual he hardly recognized it, but when he pushed one hand up beneath Champion's tunic to feel his thin scarred skin with no barriers and the scent strengthened, he realized what it was. It was not exactly the same as Lynel scent, but it was unmistakable.

He relaxed the muscles of his groin, finally allowing his cock to swell and slip free of his sheath. He groaned eagerly as he took hold of Champion's thigh, spreading Champion's legs and pushing his face between them to breathe the musky scent in. The small hard bulge of Champion's cock, concealed in his pants, twitched against his nose when he nuzzled it.

"Lynel!" Champion gasped, kicking out and struggling against his hold. "Stop!"

Of course he let his Champion go, setting him on his feet as soon as he understood what Champion was trying to do. Champion's face was very red, in the light of the rising moon and the last embers of the cook fire, as Champion tugged his clothes back into place.

"Champion does not want?" he asked, carefully fluffing Champion's silky hair with two fingertips.

Champion shivered, stretching up toward his hands and then pulling away. "That's... It's..." Champion stumbled with the words, as though suddenly worse at speaking Hylian than even he as. "You don't understand..."

"He smells Champion's—" he did not know a better word for it, in Hylian. "—want. He likes it."

"Oh," Champion said. Champion bit his bottom lip, looking up at him. "But do _you_ want to have sex? Why would you want to have sex with me, you're a Lynel, you wouldn't..."

Champion could not smell his arousal at all, could not tell that he also wanted, and that was not fair. He rolled to the side, moving his hind leg out of the way to fully expose his lower belly and his stiff cock to Champion. He flexed it, bouncing it against his stomach and groaning at the sharp slap and shiver of pleasure that came with it. "He wants. Champion wants. They can share," he said. It was simple, if Champion did not make it complicated. "Hunt-brothers share _everything_."

Champion's face went even more red, even as he could smell more arousal coming from Champion. He could still see the stiff shape of Champion's cock against his pants, and he wanted to touch it and smell it but even Champion was not touching it.

"It wouldn't... work?" Champion said, and then shook his head sharply, as though at himself. Champion's face went smooth and determined, very quickly, and Champion stepped up to stand on his folded foreleg, leaning against him and holding onto one of his horns to keep his balance. One of his hands closed around Champion on instinct, holding him close. "Show me," Champion ordered. "How do you pleasure yourself, alone?"

He liked that, liked the command in Champion's voice and to be showing himself to Champion. He bounced his cock against his belly eagerly, each slap arriving well before the feel of the last faded, pleasure building and growing hot between his legs.

"Just like that?" Champion mused, and pushed his tiny cock against his chest, rhythmic thrusts. "And how would you do another Lynel?"

"Stroke," he said, miming the hand motion. "Groom." He took hold of Champion's arm—smaller than most adult male Lynel's cocks—and licked up it in demonstration. Champion squirmed and gasped, and the scent of his arousal grew. "He wants," he said, carefully tugging at Champion's clothes. They were in the way of touching and smelling and tasting all of Champion.

Champion understood what he meant, and quickly stripped out of all his clothes, throwing them out onto the grass, and was bare, soft pale skin with all his scars exposed, and the trail of golden hair leading to the little cock standing stiff between his legs. It was blunt and round at the tip, and smooth all over—without the tapered tip or the bumps and barbs of a Lynel cock.

"Careful!" Champion gasped, when he lifted him to sniff at it and appreciate Champion's arousal. Champion squirmed in his hands, but the grip on his horns pulled his face in close. "Don't lick it."

He rumbled his approval and understanding in his own language, not caring to translate it into awkward Hylian. He rubbed his face against Champion's belly and cock, getting the scent on himself. When he tasted, it was delicately, with just the tip of his tongue flicking out to touch Champion's skin and retreating without applying any friction. The liquid that beaded at the top of Champion's cock was salty-bitter, when his tongue touched it, and Champion shouted a sharp 'ah!', body jolting. He bounced his cock faster against his belly.

"Here," Champion said, twisting athletically out of his grip and returning to stand on his leg. Champion's face was less red than it had been, but there were still bright spots high on his cheeks. "Lick me _here_ ," Champion said, rubbing a hand up his chest, and then more specifically indicating the points on his chest where Hylians had nipples.

"Yes," he said, agreeing. Champion arched his back to give him the best access and grabbed hold of his own cock with his little hand, stroking it. He had never before considered how convenient it must be for Hylians to have their cocks in reach of their own hands.

He licked, the way Champion had asked him to—one side of his chest, and then the other. Champion made more sharp crying sounds, body thrashing against his careful grip, and the scent of his arousal grew stronger.

"You're so good to me," Champion said, gasping between licks, hand stroking fast and wild. "My golden Lynel, strong and fierce and _mine_."

"His Champion," he said, scratching his nails softly against Champion's thin skin, feeling the healed scars of wounds so much like the ones the guardians had given him, and then licked again up Champion's chest to taste the salt of his sweat and his skin. "Tiny, strong," he praised, because Champion was, and then even though he was nothing like a Lynel but it was also true, "Beautiful."

He licked Champion's chest, the pale skin red and raw from the roughness of his tongue. He could taste the blood, close to the surface and nearly spilling, but he could also smell the pungent bitterness as the peak of Champion's pleasure approached. He could not resist lifting Champion up again, nose pressed to his groin. He exhaled, hot breath huffing against Champion as he cleared his nose to smell better, and Champion gasped and spent in quick jerks, strings of seed splashing against his nose and mouth.

He groaned, licking the bitter spending from his face. A few more slaps, beating his cock against his belly, and he spent his seed out into the grass.

Their scents and the scent of their pleasure was blended together, strong enough on the air to warn any enemy away. No one, now, could mistake them as anything but hunt-brothers. Champion laughed, gently stroking his face and smiling. He rumbled his own pleasure and happiness, and held Champion until he wanted to put his clothes back on.

The waxing moon rose and and then fell, shining down on them as the quiet night went on, and when they slept it was curled up together, with Champion cradled close in his arms.


	11. equipment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Link takes Lynel on a long field trip to Deep Akkala

Hunt-brothers shared everything, and Champion was a true hunt-brother to him.

In the morning, Champion unpacked everything he carried, and offered him anything he needed. He took a savage Lynel bow that Champion said he might have picked up from him in the first place, and a claymore intended to be held with two hands by a Hylian, but that nearly worked as a sword for him. Champion gave him shield to go with it, an ornamented kite shield which would have been large for a Hylian and which Champion modified with a larger grip so he could hold.

Champion had two fairies in bottles, and gave him one. Champion had a handful of red potions for healing, and gave him half. Champion gave him an extra weapon, a halberd, and an extra shield, so he would not be easily disarmed, if one broke again. They were not perfect, but they were something. They meant he could still hunt and fight beside Champion, and be a good hunt-brother to him.

"I should have done this before," Champion said. "I should have taken better care of you."

He touched Champion, claws gently scratching his back. "They are hunt-brothers _now,_ " he said, with his hearts beating strong with joy. It was so much more than he had ever dreamed.

Champion looked up at him and nodded, and asked if he wanted any of the other weapons or shields Champion had gathered from all over the land. He said no, and Champion put them away. Champion began packing up all the rest of his things, but then stopped and said "of course!" and began unpacking again. It was jewelry, this time, and pieces of equipment that made up an armor set he had only seen Champion wear once.

"These were blessed by the Great Fairies," Champion said. "They'll protect you."

Champion had looked very fierce in it, wearing the leather straps and paint and a helm of bone. Thinking back now, Champion had looked wild and beautiful in it, but at the time he had not yet been able to see his hunt-brother's beauty.

"Champion is small," he said. It was a good set of armor, but it was made for a Hylian and would not fit him.

"We can use the parts of the barbarian armor," Champion said, already breaking it into pieces. "Work on this one," Champion said, handing him a piece, and he watched how Champion was doing and did the same. It was not very difficult. Soon it was all taken apart, and did not look like anything a Hylian could wear anymore.

Champion looked at him, and at the pieces, and then began to put it together in new shapes. He helped, where he could. It took them the entire morning, but when they were done he had improved leg wraps for his front legs, sturdy padded leather, and a bracer on his right forearm reinforced with bone, and Champion improved the pauldron on his right shoulder with the skull helm to make it bigger and stronger. The new pieces smelled like Champion, and he liked that. He liked to smell like Champion.

There were a few long thin strips of leather left over, when they were done. Champion wrapped them around one hand, bright blue eyes sweeping over him to evaluate, and then climbed up him to sit on his shoulder. "Here," he said, and began wrapping one around his horn.

He held still, and allowed Champion to do this. It felt nice. Champion secured one, and then climbed across to sit on his other shoulder and do the second horn. He purred and stroked Champion's thigh as he worked.

"And the jewelry," Champion said, and began attaching the pieces he had taken out earlier to the leather wraps on his horns. He had seen Champion wear them on his ears, and thought that would be very uncomfortable, and was glad Champion had thought of another place to put them. He reached up, carefully touching Champion's hands and feeling where the glittering stones dangled from the curve of his horn. "Amber has the power of the land, for protection," Champion said, and climbed over him again to put the jewelry on his other horn too.

Champion jumped down, and looked him over with a pleased nod. "How does that feel?"

He stretched, lunged, reared, ran in a thundering circle around the little copse of trees. He had regained all his strength over the night, and his new armor was comfortable, only a little unfamiliar. He shook his horns, and found he liked the feeling of the jewelry swaying with the motion.

"Good," he said.

"Good," Champion echoed him, proud, then took off the gold and diamond circlet he wore and broke it—pulling it all out of shape with a powerful wrench so it was an open crescent instead of a circle. Champion took his right hand, and wrapped the broken circlet around the new bracer on his forearm—securing it in the straps and buckles. "Diamond," Champion said, as he finished. "To protect you from guardians."

"Champion needs it?" he asked. Hunt brothers shared everything, but Champion had only one circlet and wore it most of the time.

"I can get another," Champion said, and put a hood on over his golden hair. "We need to go to Deep Akkala," Champion said, as he saddled the patient black mare. He mounted up, and smiled at him. "Catch me," he challenged, eyes sparkling, and urged the mare into a gallop.

It was like the first day they had traveled together, he and his hunt-brother, but better because they _were_ now hunt-brothers. He belled out his joy, and gave chase. Champion whooped, bright and happy and free in the afternoon sun, and they left the broken castle and the heavy malice of the Calamity far behind them.

They played, all afternoon, as they skirted a wide path around the castle town ruins and crossed a bridge Champion knew to head east and north. Sometimes when he caught up to Champion, he plucked him from the mare's back and flung him high into the air, and Champion sailed back down with his cloth to land on the mare's back—or once, came to him and caught him by the horn as if to wrestle him to the ground, and he bellowed and flopped over like Champion had succeeded, like play-wrestling with a young kit. Champion laughed, and he licked Champion's face and put him back on the mare.

Even when Champion was not on her back, the black mare ran at his side. She did not fear him, as though he was the herd she ran with now, and maybe that was what they were to each other. He did not want to hunt or eat her, even if she hadn't been Champion's.

They met few enemies, that day, but those few Lizals they met as they entered the Lanaryu wetlands were dispatched quickly and easily between the two of them. His weapons were not those he liked, too small and light, but he was able to use them to protect Champion as Champion protected him. The new armor did help. He was hurt less, those few times when weak enemies managed to strike him.

They set their camp up on a little island beside one of Champion's glowing blue shrines. He and Champion hunted for their dinner together. They caught fish, almost more hearty bass they could eat, and roasted them with mushrooms and apples over their small fire. It was a rich and delicious meal, and he was satisfied. He thought he and Champion would spend the remaining evening resting together while the mare grazed the island, but that was not Champion's plan.

Champion dressed himself in Gerudo clothes, light floating fabrics in blue and green and white. "I have to go," Champion said, from behind a veil that covered everything but his bright eyes. "Wait here. I'll be back in a few hours."

He looked back and forth, not sure where Champion was going from their island, or why he would choose to wear Gerudo clothes to do so. Champion touched his arm, and he thought maybe Champion was smiling, but could not tell behind the veil.

Champion stepped up to the front of the shrine, and took out his slate. He poked at the surface of it a few times, nodded to himself, and then glowed with blue lights in patterns and was _gone_. He searched the island, and what he could of the shrine, but Champion was not there. The slate had more magic than he had known.

He did not like that Champion was gone. He did not like that he did not know where Champion was, and was not there to protect him. The gradually darkening hours that Champion was away were long and uncomfortable. Champion returned the way he had gone, with shining blue lights and then there he was, standing on the glowing round sigil in the front of the shrine. Champion arrived with a whiff of hot air, like nothing he had smelled before, and he lunged for Champion to pick him up and also to smell the new scents. Champion smelled like hot dry air and sand and flowers he did not recognize, and Champion laughed and squirmed out of his grip.

He had fought very few Gerudo warriors. They were too canny to challenge him in his valley directly, and the few who had accidentally entered it usually held him off with their spears and left quickly, but Champion's smell reminded him of them.

Champion removed the Gerudo clothes, and put his blue tunic on again. He touched the Gerudo clothes softly, affectionately, as he folded them up to pack away again. Champion put a new diamond circlet on his head, instead of the hood, and smiled at him. Champion had said he could get another, but he had not realized how quickly Champion would be able to.

Champion had also brought back a new fruit, a melon. It was warm on the outside, like it had been somewhere hotter, but on the inside it was sweet and cool and juicy, and he and Champion shared it. They gave the mare some, too, and she was happy crunching up the pieces of rind. Champion had also brought back more of the amber jewelry, and Champion attached them to the wraps on his horns.

They chimed faintly when he shook his head, and he liked that, and did it again.

"Amber suits you," Champion said, warmly, and scratched at a place just under his ear where his clever little fingers felt wonderful. "My jeweled Lynel."

He purred in answer, and Champion set his bedroll out close to his side to sleep.

 

Champion said they had a long way to travel the next day, and they started early. They traveled deeper through the wetlands, and defeated wave after wave of Lizals in a marshy maze of dragon bones. They were furious, focused on him and his betrayal, but he was hunt-brother to the strongest, and he and Champion sent most of them back to the Calamity before they could get close enough to touch him.

Then they were through, and went up an old cobblestone road that threaded the mountains between Zora's Domain and Death Mountain. Few traveled the road anymore, and they went unbothered into Akkala.

Champion led him to a ridge above Lake Akkala, to a hollow with trees in orange and red instead of green, and a pool like a massive blue flower in the middle. Champion left him and the mare behind, and walked up to the pool, and summoned a creature out of it like he had never seen. Huge, and loud, and full of power how he had not felt anything but the force—the Calamity—wield. He drew his bow, ready to shoot a volley and help Champion how he had helped Champion fight Hinox before, but Champion was not drawing a weapon.

Champion was talking to the creature like a friend, and the creature put an elbow on the side of the pool to relax and talk to him. They knew each other. They were not enemies. He put his bow and arrows away, and listened.

"I'm always happy to see you, handsome," the creature said, "but why are you back? I thought we'd already blessed all your equipment?"

Champion laughed, and rubbed at the back of his neck. "Actually... Great Fairy Mija, could you bless my hunt-brother's equipment?" Champion turned back, and gestured at him to step forward, so he did, cautiously.

"A Lynel!" The creature—Mija—drew back with a gasp and her hand over her heart. "I never!"

"Please?" Champion begged. "He's my... my friend. My ally. I need him."

"Of course," Mija said, reaching out to touch Champion's cheek with an affectionate fingertip. "I can see how much this means to you. My sisters will be so jealous. Come here, let's see." She gestured to him, and he cautiously approached to stand firm and tall beside Champion.

"Hmm, yes. I can strengthen several pieces," Mija said. "I can even give you a set bonus: do greater damage to Calamity Ganon's creatures, and take less damage from them. I will, of course, need the materials."

"Anything," Champion said firmly.

The Great Fairy asked for things, and Champion gave them. The insects they had so carefully gathered, and most of their precious stones, and even the rare shining fragments of fallen stars and the scale of a dragon. Champion gave it all up, for him—sharing everything, with nothing held back.

"Hmm, yes," Mija said. "Now, I think... Hylian hair. Yes, that should do it."

Champion touched his head, his beautiful gold hair, other hand on his sword. "How much?" he asked, without hesitation.

"Freely given? A few strands," Mija said, and Champion tugged at his hair and handed over the loose strands he'd gathered. Mija took the materials into her pool, and with a surge of power she blew her breath over him, and touched him with hands wet with the pool water, and then, laughing, disappeared.

He could feel her magic on him, tiny whispers of strength that pushed back against the faint whisper of the Calamity. The fires inside him felt hotter and surer, his hearts beating stronger. He felt, a little, how he thought Champion must feel in his strength.

Champion led him away, to the edge of the cliff overlooking Lake Akkala. He pointed to the other side, to low ground along the lake's far edge. "Meet me there?" Champion said, and he huffed and nodded, and Champion leapt from the edge of the cliff to sail over with his cloth.

He could not sail through the air like a Rito, and he did not wish to go all the way around to meet Champion the way the black mare was going. He was not a _graceful_ swimmer, but he could swim. He jumped as far out as he could, and made his way across the water, and Champion was waiting on the other side.

There were many broken guardians in the bog. He helped Champion break them further to gather the pieces out of them. They had taken most of them apart by the time the black mare joined them, and they let her rest as they finished. Then Champion led him north again.

They passed through a wide sweeping grassland above the ocean, with the salt wind blowing over them. They went past a huge tent that smelled of horses and Hylians, and where Hylians screamed warning and ran for weapons when they saw him, but he and Champion kept running and were out of range before the Hylians could attack.

Champion took him to a point of land high above the ocean, to a stone ruins with mismatched wooden structures built on top of it, and a brazier out in the front burning a flame as bright blue as shrines and Champion's eyes.

"Wait here," Champion said, dismounting from the mare. The mare trotted off to eat some grass, and Champion looked up at him. "When I come out, you should touch me to let Robbie know you're not dangerous."

He thought about that, then shook his head—making the jewelry on his horns chime as he disagreed with Champion. "He is dangerous," he said.

Champion smiled at him, and touched his side. "Yes, but not to me."

This he could agree with, and folded his arms and nodded once to Champion. He waited, as Champion went into the building. There were voices inside, and then Champion came out followed by a small old Sheikah with strange eye coverings.

The Shiekah did not scream, the way Hylians tended to. Sheikah did not tend to show fear that way. Instead he crouched in a fighting stance and pulled out a small sword that shone with bright blue light. Shiekah were not easy to fight, but he had done so before. They were fast and clever, like Champion, but they could be defeated if struck with enough force—much like Yiga.

Champion walked up to him, and leaned against him, and he did as he had been asked and touched Champion. He put his hand on Champion's chest, tugging him in close. He kept the claymore in his other hand, and his eyes on the Sheikah.

"Link that's... that's a Golden Lynel!" the Sheikah said.

"He's fighting Calamity Ganon," Champion answered. "He's on our side."

"How can you trust that monster?" The Sheikah asked. "You know what their kind can do!"

A few days before, he would have told the Sheikah that he served Champion now, but it was not true. He had chosen Champion, but Champion had chosen to give him more. "He does not serve the Calamity," he said, instead. "Champion is his hunt-brother."

Champion turned and rubbed his face against his side, a show of trust and affection that made the spaces between his hearts go soft and molten. He picked Champion up and put him on his shoulder, and Champion put an arm around his head and leaned into him. "My jeweled Lynel," he said, softly.

"His strong Champion," he answered, petting Champion's leg and never looking away from the Sheikah.

"Look at his scars." Champion's voice had gone hard and commanding. "Those fresh ones are from guardian beams. You know what those look like. He nearly died, protecting me. I need better equipment for him."

The moving eyes of the Sheikah's mask darted back and forth and up and down his body, and then both locked on Champion. "I suppose. Very unusual, but quite the challenge... hmm..."

"Lynel, put me down." Champion said, in that same commanding voice, instead of simply jumping down. Maybe it was more of the type of touching Champion wanted to show the Sheikah. He carefully lifted Champion down and set him on his feet. It did seem to make the Sheikah relax slightly from his ready stance. "Can you help us or not?" Champion asked. "I have the materials, and the rupees. If anyone can do it, it's you."

"As I said, quite the challenge, but I'm sure my beloved Cherry—ah, that is, the ancient oven—would be up to the task," the Sheikah said, backing toward the door until he was only just peering out of it. "For the correct number of rupees, of course, yes. Yes." He closed the door, and was gone.

"What do you want your new sword to be like?" Champion asked him.

"Big," he said. "Strong, heavy."

"Like your old one?" Champion asked. He nodded once to agree, and Champion poked at his slate until it showed him an image of a savage Lynel sword, then followed the Sheikah into the building.

There were clanking sounds from inside the building, and odd colored smoke puffed out from a few of the chimneys. It was hours later, with the sun fading from the sky, when Champion reemerged.

Champion had several strange objects in his arms, and handed a small thin staff toward him. "Sword," he said, though it clearly was not one.

He leaned down close, snorting his disapproval on it. Even the claymore was a better weapon, and that was made for Hylians. At least _it_ had cutting edges.

"Try it." Champion urged, eagerly.

He sighed as he took hold of the handle. The handle, at least, was shaped very much like a good Lynel sword. It was heavier than it looked, too, and as soon as he had it in his grip, a shining blue blade sprang up around the central staff. It was a wide, flared blade, almost like a Goron crusher, but with ragged teeth all along the outside, and as he looked they began to spin so fast around the outside they blurred together. The teeth were ready to bite, and tear, and rend his enemies to pieces. It was a vicious weapon, and he growled his approval as he turned from Champion to give it a practice swing.

It was heavy enough to put power behind the swing, but light enough to maneuver. "Yes!" he growled. "Yes!" and swung it again. The grass in a wide arc before him was shorn off and obliterated. And when he went to put the weapon away, the blade sank back into the staff and was gone, convenient for carrying.

Champion's eyes were bright, a faint hint of red on his cheeks. He held the next object out for him. "Shield," he said.

This time, he took it quickly. He was not surprised when the tiny disk of the shield expanded outward—only at how _large_ the shield was. It was nearly as tall as he was, and as broad as his body when seen from the front. This was a shield meant to protect him from all harm. He nodded and put it away, and looked to Champion for the last object.

It was a bow without a string, but one appeared when he held it.

"It only shoots one arrow at a time," Champion said, "but it goes perfectly straight." Champion handed him two thick bundles of arrows, the same strange blue arrows he'd seen Champion use to defeat a walking guardian with a single shot. "Hit a guardian in the eye, and they're gone. I should never have taken you to Hyrule Castle without them."

He picked Champion up, nuzzling under his chin and then running his own chin over Champion's head to mingle their scents together. "He has them now," he said.

It was too late to journey further, that night. They camped there, at the top of the cliffs above the ocean. They had traveled far, and were tired.

"It's time to end this," Champion said, lying against his side and nearly asleep. "Defeat the Calamity, save Hyrule... free the Lynels. That's the last thing I have to do, and we'll do it _right_ , this time. You and me."

He lay his hand on Champion's back, holding him close and soothing both Champion and himself with the touch. "Together," he said.

 

The moon rose above them, full and red, heavy with the Calamity's power; but its lurid light could not touch them.


	12. erosion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Calamity Ganon's hold on Hyrule is weakening
> 
> (and there's more smut)

They left Akkala together, he and Champion and the black mare. The pace Champion set was quick but comfortable. They raced through easy stretches, and took it easy through rougher terrain as they went back the way they had come.

There were more enemies, after the blood moon, but nothing he and his hunt-brother could not easily defeat. They fought like a pack, with one mind and all ferocity to protect each other. He and Champion were the strongest pack in the world, and nothing could stand against them. They lay waste to the servants of the Calamity that dared attack them.

They did not take the exact route they had come by. Champion had picked a path that was more efficient using his slate, since they did not need to see the fairy Mija again, or collect guardian parts.

"There's a Lynel ahead," Champion said, in the middle of the day. "Do you want to—"

"No," he broke Champion off, scenting the air.

"You... _don't_ want to fight another Lynel?" Champion asked, a line of confusion between his brows.

"No Lynel," he corrected. "Gone." There had been a strong Lynel ahead, he could smell their musk and they had been at least silver. They had held a territory for ages, as the Calamity demanded, but they were not there any more.

Champion's eyes widened, and then he nodded in understanding and put his slate back on his belt. They traveled into the Lynel's former territory together, and Champion nodded when it was as empty as he had said it would be. The little valley was abandoned, a lonely prison escaped. Champion rode through, and he broke away from Champion's side to sniff around the borders to find out what had happened. There were broken trees and scorched grasses, but the marks of battle were old, and if the Lynel had been defeated they would have returned with the recent blood moon.

On the northwestern side of the clearing, he found his answer. Several Lynels had left migration marking scents, showing the way their pack had gone, and highest among them was the other gold Lynel. Her scent was the strongest and richest, the herd queen. She was gathering Lynels, and none of them were alone anymore. The thought filled him with such joy that he could not help but rear up and let his call bell out to fill the world.

"Golden Lynel," he said, to explain to Champion, who was watching him with eyebrows raised. "She takes them."

Champion smiled, and nodded, and they continued on. Champion seemed lighter, like he had been carrying a weight and was not any more, and not only because his packs were nearly empty now. They had used up so much of what they had gradually gathered, just to supply him and make him a stronger hunt-brother to Champion. Champion seemed less stiff and blank, happier and more relaxed. Maybe he felt safer with a hunt-brother so well equipped.

They set up a camp in the hills above the dragon-bone marshes where they had destroyed so many Lizals on their way to Akkala. It was filled with Lizals again, returned by the Calamity, but he and Champion did not go back to fight them. Champion's slate showed him a camping place with a cook pot, and that was where they set up for the night. He hunted two birds, and ate one raw and put the second beside the fire to roast for Champion. Champion used the pot to make a few red and green potions, with the few supplies they had left.

Champion smiled as he put his half of them in his nearly empty pack. "Out of rupees, out of supplies." he said. "I guess it's time to defeat the Calamity." Then Champion laughed, like it was a good thing. He rumbled his agreement, and gently pet Champion's back.

Champion came and lay against him when they were done eating and settling in for the night. The mare had wandered off to graze, and the torches of the Lizals in the marsh were far away. It was only the two of them, beneath the bright waning moon. Champion touched him, stroking his arms and his chest and the belly of his upper torso—feeling the shapes of his muscles and scars. Champion reached up to touch his mane, and his horns, and nuzzled under his chin to rub his head on his scent glands. He touched Champion carefully, and gently, and purred his pleasure. The smell of Champion's arousal was weak and faint, but he knew what it was now and recognized it quickly.

He had been waiting for it, hoping for it, with his own cock already pushing free of his sheath. Champion took his blue tunic off, baring his upper half and strengthening the scent he could smell. He made an approving sound, and lifted Champion to touch and smell him better.

"Do you want..?" Champion asked him.

"Yes." Of course he wanted to share pleasure with his hunt-brother again. He showed himself to Champion, and Champion stroked his chest and looked down at his lower body like it was a tricky bit of terrain to surmount.

"Can I touch?" Champion asked.

"Yes."

He did not know what to expect of Champion. Champion flashed his teeth in a smile that felt as dangerous as a Lynel's challenge, even with his teeth so small and blunt. Champion pet his cheek, briefly, and then climbed over to lie against his flank. He trembled eagerly, cock hard and straining, as Champion reached out to touch it.

Champion's hand was very soft, smoother by far than a Lynel's hand or tongue, and cooler as well. Champion gripped one side of his cock firmly, sliding his hand up over the barbels and then twisting and stroking down again. He groaned his approval, and Champion repeated the motion.

Champion made a curious sound, and moved to instead sit on the grass near his belly. Champion rubbed his barrel belly briefly, a ticklish small affection, and then took his cock in both hands to stroke. It was even better that way. He could touch less of his cock than a Lynel's hand would, but Champion had a strong grip and it felt good. He thought maybe he could reach the peak of his pleasure that way, but Champion had more ideas to try.

He had closed his eyes, basking in the pleasure his hunt-brother gave him, and inhaled sharply with the shock when the touch changed. Soft, soft wet suction on his barbels like nothing he had ever felt before, and he looked down again to see Champion sucking on them, one and then another. If Champion's hands were good, his mouth was even better. His pleasure-sounds shook through his entire body.

"Good?" Champion asked, and there was a distinct smugness in his voice.

"Good," he confirmed, in Hylian so Champion could easily understand him. "Rougher?"

"Hm," Champion said, and this time when he took a pair of barbels into his mouth, there was the softness of his tongue again, but also the firm scrape of Champion's blunt little teeth. He could not have made Hylian words if he wanted to, feeling that—all he could do was give a long low groan. Champion smiled, fierce and triumphant, and continued. It was strange and good. Champion could only touch a few barbels at a time, but the ones he touched he gave so much pleasure it did not matter.

Champion nipped and nibbled and sucked, and stroked him with both hands, and his pleasure grew sure and as hot as the fire in his belly. Champion leaned away from him and let him go with one hand, and he looked down to see Champion drinking a green potion. Champion tossed it aside, and took hold of his cock again to stroke it harder and faster than ever.

It was enough, more than enough. Champion laughed and pointed his cock away from himself as he spent, so none of it got on Champion.

Champion let his cock go, when he was done, and stretched with a happy sigh. He grabbed Champion to hold him close, purring. Champion smelled like his cock and Champion's own sweat and arousal.

"Here," Champion said, and he did as Champion showed him. Champion wanted to be naked, and to be held in both his hands—one around his chest, and one around his groin. Champion wanted to push his cock between two of his fingers, and thrust between them. Champion wanted him to squeeze him, just a little and carefully—to feel his strength without being hurt.

He was happy to give that to Champion, to have Champion's strong little body squirming in his hands and smell Champion's growing pleasure, to be the _cause_ of it. His hunt-brother was so different from him, but more than clever enough to figure out new ways they could give each other pleasure. He had liked the pleasure Champion gave him, but he liked even more the feel of Champion thrashing in his hands until he squeezed down too tight to let him, and hearing Champion gasp, "Lynel, yes!"

He liked licking Champion's small bitter spending from one hand, while holding Champion limp and relaxed in his other arm. They were good pleasures, good things to share beside the dying fire, and he purred low and steady.

"My Lynel," Champion said, petting his chest and rubbing his face against the soft short fur there. "My beautiful, jeweled Lynel."

He liked that, too, and a thought that had been waiting and prowling in the back of his mind came forward, and he made his decision. "Yes," he said. "He is."

Champion made a curious sound, blinking up at him.

"He is Jeweled," he said.

"They suit you so well," Champion made a vague gesture toward his horns. "They catch in the firelight to make you glow. When it's all over, should we travel Hyrule gathering all the gems to make you more?"

He huffed in irritation, and put one finger over Champion's mouth to make him be silent. Champion had not understood him. "Champion is Champion," he tried again, hand on Champion's chest. He touched his own chest. "He is Jeweled." He was different from other Lynels now, and he was Champion's hunt-brother. He could make a name like Hylians did, for his hunt-brother, and it sounded strong and beautiful in Champion's mouth when he called him Jeweled.

"Oh. You've chosen a name." Champion said. "Jeweled?"

Jeweled shook his head slightly, making the jewelry on his horns chime. "Yes."

Champion smiled, and then yawned when he opened his mouth to speak. "Jeweled," he said again, like he was trying the new name out. "My hunt-brother, my Jeweled, my Lynel."

"Jeweled's Champion," he answered.

Champion groaned. " _Everyone's_ Champion, until I defeat the Calamity."

"Soon," Jeweled said. "Together."

"Yeah," Champion agreed softly. "...yeah." And then he gathered his clothes and his blankets to sleep with Jeweled.

 

The night was long, and quiet. There grew a stillness in it that was unnatural. The faint sounds of the Lizals in the swamp quieted, as the wind changed and his and Champion's camp became upwind of it. The Lizals went quiet, and then the crickets, in a sweeping wave toward the camp.

The change woke Jeweled, and he lifted his head to look out into the dark. The long grasses rustled, faintly, a slow and steady creep closer to his and Champion's camp, though he could not see any cause for it.

He breathed carefully, primed and ready to inhale into the chamber of his fire and set all the grasses ablaze. Champion was close to him, curled up safe in the space between his forelegs and his upper torso, which he'd stretched out to rest on the ground.

The rustling came closer, and closer, and within it Jeweled could hear soft croaking sounds. It reached the edge of the camp, and then slowly and quietly a few Lizal heads poked out of the grass—camouflaged to its exact shade. And then more, and more. Dozens.

They were not attacking, yet. Jeweled reached back, slowly, closing his hand on the handle of his claymore. Directly ahead of him, one of the Lizals crawled on their belly further into the clearing. They looked at him, and he at them, for long moments, before they shifted colors to a gold as bright as his. They were old, with long curved face horns and many scars. Both of their eyes twitched and twisted, taking him all in, and then both fixing on Champion's sleeping form beneath him.

"Why," the gold Lizal asked, in a dry-whispered croak, as they looked back at Jeweled.

"Why," the other Lizals echoed, in a hissing wave of whispers around them. "Why? _why?_ Why."

"Champion is stronger than the force," he answered, low and quiet. "Champion is kind," he added, and then, because he had not dared to dream it, but it was the most important part. "We can be _free_."

"Hmm," the gold Lizal answered.

"Hmm. Hm? _hmmmm_." the other Lizals echoed.

With nothing else said, the gold Lizal camouflaged themself with green again, and slithered backward into the grass, and all the other Lizals did as well. They left, in a wave of rustling grass as slowly and quietly as they had come. The crickets began to chirp again.

Champion breathed out a sigh, and looking beneath his arm, Jeweled could see that Champion was awake and releasing his grip on his bow. Jeweled nuzzled his cheek, and Champion settled back into sleep. Jeweled followed soon after, but he drowsed only lightly.

Up and down the wetlands, in sudden faint bursts interspersed with silence or squawked arguments, Lizal horns blew messages he could not understand through the dark.

 

Jeweled and Champion's road took them along the river the next day, but not a single Lizal attacked them. They all swam away to avoid them, instead, in direct contradiction to the Calamity's orders.

"I'm not afraid, anymore," Champion said, and together they crossed the bridge into Hyrule Field, and back into sight of the palace, surrounded by the fraying power of Calamity Ganon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The penultimate chapter is coming up next! I'm excited.
> 
> Also, it looks like the link/lynel tag finally got made canonical! Do you think this weird-ass fic without a more popular pairing to bolster its ratings can make it to #1 in the pairing?


	13. The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They marched into the broken castle town, this time, like a conquering army.

They marched into the broken castle town, this time, like a conquering army.

Jeweled and Champion were only two, but they did not need more. Together they were enough. The Calamity raged, throwing guardians at them in ranks, and they cut them down. Jeweled's new shield threw the beams back into the guardian's eyes. His massive blue-toothed sword—what Champion named his bladesaw—could cut one in half. A lunging shield bash could tip a crawler over, and then Champion leaping over him in a flying flip could drive his sword clear through its head. The flyers only needed a single blue arrow to destroy.

They did not spare a single guardian who opposed them, working their way into the center of the Calamity's power. Jeweled could feel it, the burning whisper of the Calamity's force, but from far away. He was protected, now. Nothing could touch him.

He roared his joy, and Champion laughed, as they decimated the Calamity's forces.

They were Champion and Jeweled, and no power the Calamity had could stop them.

They came to the base of the floating cliff, like the first time, but not running, and with no enemies closing in behind them. They knew where they were, and where they were going, and they had no reason to hurry. Champion was stronger than the Calamity. He would win. It was the last thing Champion had to do, and Jeweled was with him like he had been from the moment he realized what Champion's existence truly meant.

Champion stopped at the base of the cliff, and then climbed up Jeweled's body. He held Champion, letting Champion sit on his arm so their faces were on the same level. Champion touched his mane, and nuzzled against his cheek. Jeweled purred, and Champion smiled at him.

"Give me a boost up, and then go," Champion said, voice hard and commanding. "Get as far from here as you can."

If Champion had told him that, the first time, he would have done it. He would not have liked it, but he would have done it. He did not serve Champion any more. "No," Jeweled said.

Champion sighed, and leaned forward to press his lips to Jeweled's eyelids, soft and gentle. "Please," he said, and his voice was soft too. "Please, my Jeweled. I can do this, but I don't know what's going to happen. Go. Be safe. I... I'll find you again, somehow, I swear. But _please_ , go!"

Jeweled sighed too, but he nodded once and briefly licked Champion's cheek before throwing him upward as hard as he could in a final boost. Champion climbed up to the top of the cliff, and turned back to wave at him, and then was gone from sight.

He waited, looking upward, and then reared on his hind legs to turn and run.

The Calamity shook behind him, a tremor through the earth and sky. Even through the protection that Champion and the Fairy Mija had given him, he could feel its rage... and its fear. The servants of the Calamity in the castle—Moblins, Bokoblins, Lizals—came teeming and screaming out of the depths of the castle. Fleeing the fall of the Calamity.

He could have joined them. He could have left the castle, as Champion asked him. He would have, but he heard the terrified scream of a Lynel high on a wall. He could leave Champion behind, because Champion had told him to even though it hurt like a blade in the place between his hearts, and he did not care about any of the servants of the Calamity, but there was no part of him that could accept leaving a Lynel in the castle.

They would not have screamed that way if they could escape. That scream was desperation, and death.

He galloped toward the sound, with all his strength and all his speed. His most powerful leaps took him up the crumbling and broken stonework. A guardian sentinel, firing wildly in all directions, seared a burning line down his flank, before he took its head off with a single powerful swing of his bladesaw. He hardly felt it. He was on the top of the wall, then, and he could finally smell the other Lynel. They screamed again, and he found the tower they were in.

The other Lynel was white-maned, and fighting helplessly and desperately against the grated gate that imprisoned them. It was sealed tight, a trap held closed by the power of Calamity Ganon. It was heavy in the air, red and purple, thick as smoke, like a blood moon during the day.

The Calamity could not touch him. He stepped forward, and the smoke curled away and dissipated around him so he stood shining in clean air—like Champion's strength had infused him just as Champion's scent surrounded him. The gate was made to hold even a Lynel. He took hold of the gate with both hands, and with a roar and a mighty heave he lifted it to chest height. High enough for the white-maned Lynel to pass under.

They stared at him, shocked and unmoving. They had never seen anything like him. He was not even gold, not anymore. He was something beyond. He was Jeweled now. The Calamity fell to his hunt brother, and it was powerless over him.

<Come,> he said. The other Lynel obeyed, without question, lowering themself to all sixes to escape beneath the gate. Jeweled let the gate go, to fall with a clang. The white-maned Lynel looked around, taking in the breaking castle and all the fleeing servants of the Calamity, and then back at him in wonder.

He could not imagine being imprisoned in such a space, for so long. At least his lonely valley had sun, and free air, and grass, and space to run. This Lynel was free, now. They would have that, again. The earth and sky shook with a piercing rumble from the castle high above—and the white-maned Lynel trembled through, but knelt to offer their neck to Jeweled in surrender.

He leaned down, giving them the most perfunctory nip to acknowledge them. <We must leave,> he said.

The other Lynel stood, and looked longingly toward Hyrule Field, but then back toward the castle. <My hunt-sister,> they said, defying him though they could not bear to look at him as they did. <In the other guard house... I cannot go without her.>

<Show me.>

The white-maned Lynel did not hesitate. They led him on, leaps surer and pace faster as they regained their confidence, to another tower that mirrored the one he'd found them in. As they approached, Jeweled could hear the roar of a Lynel—all but lost in the rumbling quakes that shook the castle ruins. The white-maned Lynel in this one was bloodied, wounded on her arms and forelegs as she attacked the door, trying to break it down.

Jeweled took hold of the door, and she grabbed hold from the other side to lift with him as he raised it. Whether it helped or not, he could not say. The gate was lifted, and she leapt through to tackle the first white-maned Lynel. They purred, shaking and clinging together as they licked each other's faces—paying attention to nothing else—as if they would be happy to die here, so long as they did it together. He could not imagine the pain of that; being so close to a hunt-sibling, and unable to see them for so long.

The castle shook again, the deep purple of Calamity Ganon's power thickening above it, and there was no time for their extended reunion. <Come,> he ordered, and they obeyed to follow him in a dead-gallop away from the collapsing castle.

Now that they were running, the white-maned hunt-siblings did not _want_ to stop, but they did stop when he did. He could not go, not while his own hunt-brother was still inside the castle. He could not make himself go any further away, not even knowing that Champion wanted him to.

<Go north,> he told the hunt-siblings, pointing. <Find the golden herd queen.> She would likely welcome a strong pair of hunt-siblings, if they chose to be her subordinates. The first Lynel nodded to him, and together the two ran on, away from Hyrule Field.

All of the Calamity's servants had fled. He could hear the faint squawks and screams as the Moblins and Bokoblins fought to cross the bridge, the cries of the Lizals who threw themselves in the water—all fading away.

There was only Jeweled, now. Only Jeweled, and the pulsing power of the Calamity, the few remaining guardians around the castle shooting wildly at nothing, and Champion somewhere within it all. He had his bow in his hand, his bladesaw ready.

Waiting. He did not know what for.

There was a tremor, an earthquake so powerful Jeweled had to drop to all sixes and brace himself to avoid being thrown to the ground. When he looked up, the castle had split open, and a great beast had broken free of it. It was like a boar, if a boar was the size of a castle and caused the earth to tremble with each step, and all dark purple and moving streaks of red and burning violet flames.

It was Calamity Ganon. Jeweled knew it, as sure as he knew his own heartbeats and the fire in his belly. This was the force that had divided and ordered the Lynels for so long. And there, following in its wake, the bright golden speck of Champion giving chase.

Champion whistled, calling for the black mare, and she ran to him from the trees where they'd left her. She was a fearless warhorse, and Champion was fearless on her back. Jeweled followed, far to the side to keep out of Calamity Ganon's way. Champion rode the mare in circles around the beast, beneath its belly and between its legs. He shot with a shining bow, and evaded when Calamity Ganon opened its mouth to shoot rays of burning violet light.

Jeweled followed, watching as Champion worked to defeat the Calamity for good. Champion was the strongest, he knew what he was doing. Jeweled saw the moment when Champion ran the mare around the front of the beast, and sprang up to shoot arrows impossibly fast—saw Champion safe high up in the air, and the mare, unguided, fail to evade the swing of Calamity Ganon's massive head. He saw the spray of blood, where a tusk caught her side, saw her fly through the air, roll in a tangle of snapping limbs, and be still.

She did not scream, how an injured horse would. She was only still, and silent... and then gone. It was Champion who screamed, a wail of agony, even as he ran under Calamity Ganon's belly—still fighting.

Jeweled, also, was running—a full charge toward Calamity Ganon. He shot every type of arrow he had. Electric, fire, ice, exploding, even blue. The Calamity did not seem to feel any of it. On his way past, he swung his bladesaw against the back of the Calamity's hind leg with all the strength of his arms and the force of his momentum, but even that could not seem to pierce it. Then he had reached Champion. He did not slow, only reached his hand out on his way past, and Champion grabbed it to swing up onto his back.

It felt strange and wrong to have a weight on his back and a moving, living, thing in his blind spot—but it was only Champion, it was only his hunt-brother, and that made it all right. Champion leaned, pressing his barrel with a knee, and it was immediately obvious which direction Champion needed to go. Jeweled could do that, for Champion, who was freeing all the Lynels and all of _Hyrule_ from Calamity Ganon. He could circle the beast, more quickly and cautiously than the mare had, and when Champion shouted 'boost', he could grab Champion from his back and throw him high in the air to shoot the Calamity. He could be there, ready to catch Champion when he came falling back down to the earth.

They had never fought together this way before, but they could adapt. They had to, with the Calamity barreling onward into the world. They could not let it escape. Only Champion could hurt it, and Jeweled could take Champion where he needed to go. He could help. Every step he had traveled beside Champion, every battle they had entered together, every weapon and piece of equipment Champion had given him, it was all for this moment, and he _would not_ fail any more than he believed Champion would.

He ran, carrying Champion, until his lungs burned and his flanks quivered with exhaustion, until the sweat slicked his body in sheets, and he did not stop. He was Jeweled, and he would not give up so long as Champion still needed him, and still fought. He carried Champion until, finally, the great beast fell before one too many shining arrows. Too many of even very small wounds could kill, Jeweled knew that, and Champion's unrelenting assault gave Calamity Ganon no time to recover.

Calamity Ganon fell, losing form into purple and red smoke again, and a shining gold Hylian girl emerged from the depths, to banish what was left in a burst of light so bright it hurt even when Jeweled covered his eyes to protect them.

The weight of Calamity Ganon faded, the whispering force Jeweled had known for so long he had nearly forgotten anything else—gone. The sky cleared, to bright blue and warm sunlight.

The golden Hylian girl spoke to Champion, and Champion climbed down from Jeweled's back. Jeweled could only stand there, gasping huge breaths to regain his wind, too exhausted to do anything else, as Champion left him behind to go to her. The girl asked Champion if he knew her, and they looked at each other for a long moment, before Champion stumbled his tired way forward to pick her up and spin her around.

 

They laughed together until they were crying: the golden Hylians, on a beautiful sunny day, in a Hyrule free of Calamity Ganon's power for the first time in a hundred years.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just the epilogue left, folks! It's been quite the journey, hasn't it?


	14. epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the happy ending

The sun was growing low over Hyrule Field as Jeweled made his away across it. He walked tall, proud and stately with a blue sash as bright as Champion's tunic across his chest, and gems of all kinds decorating his horns and hands.

He was not only named Jeweled, anymore. He was also Emissary, and the Princess had given him the sash as a gift of friendship and a mark of trust and honor so all could see him and know him. He was Jeweled, and Emissary, but most beloved of all 'my Lynel' soft and breathless in Champion's mouth.

The Princess herself was also named Zelda, and 'you nerd' fondly when Champion was teasing her. And Champion was also Link, and 'ugh, you clod' in a laugh when the Princess was teasing him back.

The Princess was busy, helping as many people of Hyrule as she could now that Calamity Ganon was defeated, and trying to rebuild something out of the broken castle and the ruins of the castle town. Champion was busy helping her, and Jeweled was busy with his own work—the same work, all three of them, in different way.

Champion's golden hair gleamed in the setting sun, as he rode up on a placid blue-and-white splotched gelding. He smiled when he saw Jeweled, and Jeweled plucked him from the back of the horse as soon as he was close enough. He rubbed his face all over Champion, purring, and Champion laughed as he pressed his little Hylian 'kisses' all over Jeweled's face.

Jeweled licked Champion's hair down smooth, and placed him back on the gelding.

"Ready to go?" Champion asked, eyes shining.

They both knew where they were headed—another expedition to try and find the elusive 'horse god', on their way to a diplomatic visit to the Lynel herds who had established themselves in northern Deep Akkala and the Gerudo Highlands.

"With you, always," Jeweled said, and he meant it with both hearts and everything between them.

Champion smiled—he smiled so much easier, these days—and clicked his tongue to urge the gelding into an easy walk forward. There were no great fates that they must rush toward, not anymore. They could take their time.

Side by side, they traveled over perfumed hills covered with pale blue silent princess flowers, until the moon rose: bright and clear and full above them.

FIN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And so the fic comes to an end! Thank you so much everyone who's been reading along and commenting. You made writing this fanfic so much more fun! Writing for you has been a joy and an honor. Thank you.
> 
> If you want to hang out more, I'm Thorinsmut on tumblr. And if you'd like to spread the word about this fic that would be awesome! [[here]](http://thorinsmut.tumblr.com/post/177630066208/rise-with-the-moon-master-post-the-golden-lynel) is the master post I made for it!
> 
> This adventure is over, but I hope we meet again in other stories.
> 
> <3  
> TS


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